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LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 




BUFFALO BILL ON HORSEBACK. 
From the Famous Painting by Rosa Bonheur. 



LAST OF THE 
GREAT SCOUTS 

(BUFFALO BILL) 

BY 

HELEN CODY WETMORE 

AND 

ZANE GREY 

ILLUSTRATED 




NEW YORK 

GROSSET & DUNEKB 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1899, 

in 

The United States, Great Britain and France 

By HELEN CODY WETMORE 

Copyright, 1918, 

By GROSSET & DUNLAP 



JUL 13 1918 



©CI.A4998(i9 






^ 






TO THE MEMORY OF A MOTHER 

WHOSE CHRISTIAN 

CHARACTER STILL LIVES A HALLOWED 

INFLUENCE 



CONTENTS 



Foreword ----- vli 

Geneology of Buffalo Bill - - - ix 

Preface to the First Edition. - - - xi 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Old Homestead in Iowa - - - i 

II. Will's First Indian - - - - 10 

III. The Shadow of Partisan Strife - - 17 

IV. Persecution Continues . - • 23 
V. The "Boy Extra" ... - 32 

VI. Family Defender and Household Tease - 42^ 

VII. Indian Encounter and School-Day Incidents - 51 

VIII. Death and Burial of Turk - - - 66 

IX. Will as Pony Express Rider - - - 7S 

X. Echoes from Sumter - - - - S6 

XI. A Short but Dashing Indian Campaign - - 96' 

XII. The Mother's Last Illness - - - 105 

XIII. In the Secret-Service - - - - 119 

XIV. A Rescue and a Betrothal - - - 131 
XV. Will as a Benedict ... - 143 

XVI. How the Sobriquet of "Buffalo Bill" was Won 160 

XVII. Satanta, Chief of the Kiowas - - - 170 

XVIII. Will Made Chief of Scouts - - 180* 

XIX. Army Life at Fort McPherson - - - 187 



CONTENTS vi 

XX. Pa-has-ka, the Long-H aired Chief - - 199 

XXI. The Hunt of the Grand Duke Alexis - - 209 

XXII. Theatrical Experiences - - - 218 

XXIII. The Government's Indian Policy - - 229 

XXIV. Literary Work - - - - 239 
XXV. First Visit to the Valley of the Big Horn - 251 

XXVI. Tour of Great Britain . - - 260 

XXVII. Return of the "Wild West" to America - 275 

XXVIII. A Tribute to General Miles - - 284 

XXIX. The "Wild West" at the World's Fair • - 290 

XXX Cody Day at the Omaha Exposition - 302 

XXXI. The Last of the Great Scouts - - 313 

Zane Gray Adds the Finishing Touch to the 

Story by Tellng of the Last Days of the 

Last of the Great Scouts - - 321 



FOREWORD 
By Zane Grey 

It is an honor and a pleasure for me to add a 
few words to this splendid book, "The Last of the 
Great Scouts," by Colonel Cody's sister, Mrs. Helen 
Cody Wetmore. 

When the history of our western frontier is at 
last written, the name of Buffalo Bill will stand out 
perhaps as no other. He was symbolical of the he- 
roic west. He inspired the pioneer, guided the sol- 
dier, and helped the builders of the railroad. And 
his life was more thrilling than any wild, adven- 
turous and moving romance. Facts may not be so 
strange as fiction, but they are more convincing. 
And some facts, if written as fiction, would be unbe- 
lievable. 

The early West bred men of heroic mould. They 
resembled the Indian in many ways, and were su- 
perior to him in all ways except perhaps the noble 
worship of nature. The like of Buffalo Bill, Wild 
Bill, Buffalo Jones, and many other famous fron- 
tiersmen will never be met with again in this world. 
The time needed them, and they developed. These 
three types of the West were singularly unlike — 
Buffalo Bill was the scout and pathfinder and hunt- 

vii 



vIII FOREWORD 

er; Wild Bill was the gunman, the killer, the foe of 
the rampant desperado class; Buffalo Jones was the 
preserver. 

And so a narrative of Buffalo Bill's life, by a 
relative, written simply and truthfully from first- 
hand facts, is an absorbingly Interesting story as 
well as a valuable adjunct to history. 

It will show a man growing great through the 
life of the times — an outdoor life of swift action, 
of various service, of perilous adventure, of unself- 
ish devotion to an ideal, of magnificent effrontery 
in the face of death, of steadfast friendship, of in- 
explicable hardihood and endurance through heat, 
storm, cold, desert thirst and mountain loneliness — 
all that some day men might have free, happy homes 
in the boundless West. 

Zane Grey. 



GENEALOGY OF BUFFALO BILL 

The following genealogical sketch was compiled 
in 1897: 

It is not generally known that genuine royal 
blood courses in Colonel Cody's veins. He is a 
lineal descendant of Milesius, king of Spain, that 
famous monarch whose three sons, Heber, Here- 
mon, and Ir, founded the first dynasty in Ireland, 
about the beginning of the Christian era. The Cody 
family comes through the line of Heremon. The 
original name was TIreach, which signifies "The 
Rocks." Mulredach TIreach, one of the first of 
this line, and son of Fiacha Stralvetlne, was crowned 
king of Ireland, Anno Domini 320. Another of 
the line became king of Connaught, Anno Domini 
701. The possessions of the Sept were located In 
the present counties of Clare, Galway, and Mayo. 
The names Connaught-Gallway, after centuries, 
gradually contracted to Connallway, Connellway, 
Connelly, Conly, Cory, Coddy, Coidy, and Cody, 
and is clearly shown by ancient Indentures still 
traceable among existing records. On the maternal 
side. Colonel Cody can, without difficulty, follow his 
lineage to the best blood of England. Several of 
the Cody family emigrated to America In 1747, set- 
tling in Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. The 



X GENEALOGY OF BUFFALO BILL 

name Is frequently mentioned In Revolutionary his- 
tory. Colonel Cody Is a member of the Cody fam- 
ily of Revolutionary fame. Like the other Spanish- 
Irish families, the Codys have their proof of an- 
cestry in the form of a crest. The lion signifies 
Spanish origin. It is the same figure that forms a 
part of the royal coat-of-arms of Spain to this day — 
Castile and Leon. The arm and cross denote that 
the descent is through the line of Heremon, whose 
posterity were among the first to follow the cross, 
as a symbol of their adherence to the Christian 
faith. 



PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION 

I 

In presenting this volume to the public, the writer 
has a twofold purpose. For a number of years 
there has been an increasing demand for an au- 
thentic biography of ''Buffalo Bill," and in response 
many books of varying value have been submitted; 
yet no one of them has borne the hall-mark of 
veracious history. Naturally, there were incidents 
in Colonel Cody's life — more especially in the 
earlier years — that could be given only by those 
with whom he had grown up from childhood. For 
many incidents of his later life I am indebted to 
his own and others' accounts. I desire to acknowl- 
edge obligation to General P. H. Sheridan, Colonel 
Inman, Colonel Ingraham, and my brother for val- 
uable assistance furnished by Sheridan's Memoirs, 
"The Santa Fe Trail," "The Great Salt Lake 
Trail," "Buffalo Bill's Autobiography," and "Stories 
from the Life of Buffalo Bill." 

A second reason that prompted the writing of my 
brother's life-story is purely personal. The sobri- 
quet of "Buffalo Bill" has conveyed to many people 
an impression of his personality that is far removed 
from the facts. They have pictured in fancy a 
rough frontier character, without tenderness and 
true. nobility. But in very truth has the poet sung: 



xii PREFACE TO FIRST EDITIOIsT 

"The bravest are the tenderest — \ 

The loving are the daring." 

The public knows my brother as boy Indian- 
slayer, a champion buffalo-hunter, a brave soldier, a 
daring scout, an intrepid frontiersman, and a fa- 
mous exhibitor. It is only fair to him that a glimpse 
be given of the parts he played behind the scenes — 
devotion to a widowed mother, that pushed the boy 
so early upon a stage of ceaseless action, continued 
care and tenderness displayed in later years, and the 
generous thoughtfulness of manhood's prime. 

Thus a part of my pleasant task has been to 
enable the public to see my brother through his sis- 
ter's eyes — eyes that have seen truly if kindly. If I 
have been tempted into praise where simple narra- 
tive might to the reader seem all that was required, 
if I have seemed to exaggerate in any of my his- 
tory's details, I may say that I am not conscious of 
having set down more than "a plain, unvarnished 
tale." Embarrassed with riches of fact, I have had 
no thought of fiction. 

H. C. W. 

CODYVIEW, DULUTH, MINNESOTA, 

February 26, 1899. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 



CHAPTER I 

THE OLD HOMESTEAD IN IOWA 

A PLEASANT, roomy farm-house, set in the sun- 
light against a background of cool, green wood and 
mottled meadow — this is the picture that my earliest 
memories frame for me. To this home my parents, 
Isaac and Mary Cody, had moved soon after 'their 
marriage. 

The place was known as the Scott farm, and was 
situated in Scott County, Iowa, near the historic little 
town of Le Clair, where, but a few years before, a 
village of the Fox Indians had been located; where 
Black Hawk and his thousand warriors had assem- 
bled for their last war-dance; where the marquee 
of General Scott was erected, and the treaty with 
the Sacs and Foxes drawn up; and where, in obedi- 
ence to the Sac chief's terms, Antoine Le Clair, the 
famous half-breed Indian scholar and interpreter, 
had built his cabin, and given to the place his name. 
Here, in this atmosphere of pioneer struggle and 
Indian warfare — in the farm-house in the dancing 
sunshine, with the background of wood and meadow 



2 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

— my brother, William Frederick Cody, was born, 
on the 26th day of February, 1846. 

Of the good, old-fashioned sort was our family, 
numbering five daughters and two sons — Martha, 
Samuel, Julia, William, Eliza, Helen, and May. 
Samuel, a lad of unusual beauty of face and nature, 
was killed through an unhappy accident before he 
was yet fourteen. 

He was riding "Betsy Baker," a mare well known 
among old settlers in Iowa as one of speed and 
pedigree, yet displaying at times a most malevolent 
temper, accompanied by Will, who, though only 
seven years of age, yet sat his pony with the ease 
and grace that distinguished the veteran rider of 
the future. Presently Betsy Baker became frac- 
tious and sought to throw her rider. In vain did 
she rear and plunge; he kept his saddle. Then, 
seemingly, she gave up the fight, and Samuel cried, 
in boyish exultation: 

"Ah, Betsy Baker, you didn't quite come it that 
time I" 

His last words I As if she knew her rider was a 
careless victor off his guard, the mare reared sud- 
denly and flung herself upon her back, crushing the 
daring boy bentath her. 

Though to us younger children our brother Sam- 
uel was but a shadowy memory, in him had centered 
our parents' fondest hopes and aims. These, nat- 
urally, were transferred to the younger, now the 
only son, and the hope that mother, especially, held 
for him was strangely stimulated by the remem- 
brance of the mystic divination of a soothsayer in 
the years agone. My mother was a woman of too 
much intelligence and force of character to nourish 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 3 

an average superstition; but prophecies fulfilled will 
temper, though they may not shake, the smiling un- 
belief of the most hard-headed skeptic. Mother's 
moderate skepticism was not proof against the 
strange fulfillment of one prophecy, which fell out 
in this wise: 

To a Southern city, which my mother visited when 
a girl, there came a celebrated fortune-teller, and 
led by curiosity, my mother and my aunt one day 
made two of the crowd that thronged the sibyl's 
drawing-rooms. 

Both received with laughing incredulity the proph- 
ecy that my aunt and the two children with her 
would be dead in a fortnight; but the dread augury 
was fulfilled to the letter. All three were stricken 
with yellow fever, and died within less than the 
time set. This startling confirmation of the sooth- 
sayer's divining powers not unnaturally affected my 
mother's belief in that part of the prophecy relating 
to herself: that "she would meet her future hus- 
band on the steamboat by which she expected to re- 
turn home; that she would be married to him In a 
year, and bear three sons, of whom only the second 
would live, but that the name of this son would be 
known all over the world, and would one day be 
that of the President of the United States." The 
first part of this prophecy was verified, and Sam- 
uel's death was another link in the curious chain of 
circumstances. Was it, then, strange that mother 
looked with unusual hope upon her second son? 

That 'tis good fortune for a boy to be only 
brother to five sisters Is open to question. The 
older girls petted Will; the younger regarded him 
as a superior being; while to all It seemed so fit and 



4 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

proper that the promise of the stars concerning his 
future should be fulfilled that never for a moment 
did we weaken in our belief that great things were 
in store for our only brother. We looked for the 
prophecy's complete fulfillment, and with childish 
veneration regarded Will as one destined to sit in 
the executive's chair. 

My mother, always somewhat delicate, was so 
affected in health by the shock of Samuel's death 
that a change of scene was advised. The Cal- 
ifornia gold craze was then at its height, and 
father caught the fever, though in a mild form ; for 
he had prospered as a farmer, and we not only had 
a comfortable home, but were in easy circumstances. 
Influenced in part by a desire to improve mother's 
health, and in part, no doubt, by the golden day- 
dreams that lured so many Argonauts Pacificward, 
he disposed of his farm, and bade us prepare for a 
Western journey. Before his plans were completed 
he fell in with certain disappointed gold-seekers re- 
turning from the coast, and impressed by their rep- 
resentations, decided in favor of Kansas instead of 
California. 

Father had very extravagant ideas regarding ve- 
hicles and horses, and such a passion for equestrian 
display that we often found ourselves with a stable 
full of thoroughbreds and an empty cupboard. For 
our Western migration we had, in addition to three 
prairie-schooners, a large family carriage, drawn by 
a span of fine horses in silver-mounted harness. This 
carriage had been made to order in the East, uphol- 
stered in the finest leather, polished and varnished 
as though for a royal progress. Mother and we 








^v n 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 5 

girls found it more comfortable riding than the 
springless prairie-schooners. 

Brother Will constituted himself an armed escort, 
and rode proudly alongside on his pony, his gun 
slung across the pommel of his saddle, and the dog 
Turk bringing up the rear. 

To him this Western trip thrilled with possible 
Indian skirmishes and other stirring adventures, 
though of the real dangers that lay in our path he 
did not dream. For him, therefore, the first week 
of our travels held no great interest, for we were 
constantly chancing upon settlers and farm-houses, 
in which the night might be passed; but with every 
mile the settlers grew fewer and farther between, 
until one day Will whispered to us, in great glee: 
"I heard father tell mother that he expected we 
should have to camp to-night. Now we'll have some 
fun!" 

Will's hope was well founded. Shortly before 
nightfall we reached a stream that demanded a 
ferry-boat for its crossing, and as the nearest dwell- 
ing was a dozen miles away, it was decided that we 
should camp by the stream-side. The family was 
first sent across the ferry, and upon the eight-year- 
old lad of the house father placed the responsibility 
of selecting the ground on which to pitch the tents. 

My brother's career forcibly illustrates the fact 
that environment plays as large a part as heredity 
In shaping character. Perhaps his love for the free 
life of the plains is a heritage derived from some 
long-gone ancestor; but there can be no doubt that 
to the earlier experiences of which I am writing he 
owed his ability as a scout. The faculty for obtain- 



6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

ing water, striking trails, and finding desirable camp- 
ing-grounds in him seemed almost instinct. 

The tents being pitched upon a satisfactory site, 
Will called to Turk, the dog, and, rifle in hand, set 
forth in search of game for supper. He was suc- 
cessful beyond his fondest hopes. He had looked 
only for small game, but scarcely had he *put the 
camp behind him when Turk gave a signaling yelp, 
and one of the bushes bounded a magnificent deer. 
Nearly every hunter will confess to "buck fever" at 
sight of his first deer, so it is- not strange that a boy 
of Will's age should have stood immovable, staring 
dazedly at the graceful animal until it vanished from 
sight. Turk gave chase, but soon trotted back, and 
barked reproachfully at his young master. But Will 
presently had an opportunity to recover Turk's good 
opinion, for the dog, after darting away, with an- 
other signaling yelp fetched another fine stag within 
gun range. This time the young hunter, mastering 
his nerves, took aim with steady hand, and brought 
down his first deer. 

On the following Sabbath we were encamped by 
another deep, swift-running stream. After being 
wearied and overheated by a rabbit chase, Turk at- 
tempted to swim across this little river, but was 
chilled, and would have perished had not Will 
rushed to the rescue. The ferryman saw the boy 
struggling with the dog in the water, and started 
after him with his boat. But Will reached the bank 
without assistance. 

"Fve hearn of dogs saving children, but this is 
the first time I ever hearn of a child saving a dog 
from drowning," ejaculated the ferryman. ''How 
old be you?'* 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS f 

"Eight, going on nine/* answered Will. 

"You're a big boy for your age," said the man. 
"But it's a wonder you didn't sink with that load; 
he's a big old fellow," referring to Turk, who, 
standing on three feet, was vigorously shaking the 
water from his coat. Will at once knelt down be- 
side him, and taking the uplifted foot in his hands, 
remarked: "He must have sprained one of his legs 
when he fell over that log; he doesn't whine like 
your common curs when they get hurt." 

"He's blooded stock, then," said the man. 
"What kind of a dog do you call him?" 

"He's an Ulm dog," said Will. 

"I never heard tell of that kind of dog before." 

"Did you ever hear of a tiger-mastiff, German 
mastiff, boar-hound, great Dane? Turk's all of 
them together." 

"Well," said the ferryman, "you're a pretty smart 
little fellow, and got lots of grit. You ought to 
make your mark in the world. But right now you 
had better get into some dry clothes." And on the 
invitation of the ferryman. Will and the limping 
dog got Into the boat, and were taken back to camp. 

Turk played so conspicuous and important a part 
in our early lives that he deserves a brief descrip- 
tion. He was a large and powerful animal of the 
breed of dogs anciently used in Germany in hunting 
the wild boars. Later the dogs were imported into 
England, where they were particularly valued by 
people desiring a strong, brave watch-dog. When 
specially trained, they are more fierce and active 
than the English mastiff. Naturally they are not as 
fond of the water as the spaniel, the stag-hound, or 
the Newfoundland, though they are the king of dogs 



8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

on land. Not alone Will, but the rest of the fam- 
ily, regarded Turk as the best of his kind, and he 
well deserved the veneration he inspired. His fidel- 
ity and almost human intelligence were time and 
again the means of saving life and property; ever 
faithful, loyal, and ready to lay down his life, if 
need be, in our service. 

Outlaws and desperadoes were always to be met 
with on Western trails in those rugged days, and 
more than once Turk's constant vigilance warned 
father in time to prevent attacks from suspicious 
night prowlers. The attachment which had grown 
up between Turk and his young master was but the 
natural love of boys for their dogs intensified. Will 
at that time estimated dogs as in later years he did 
men, the qualities which he found to a-dmire in Turk 
being vigilance, strength, courage, and constancy. 
With men, as with dogs, he is not lavishly demon- 
strative; rarely pats them on the back. But deeds 
of merit do not escape his notice or want his appre- 
ciation. The patience, unselfishness, and true no- 
bility observed in this faithful canine friend of his 
boyhood days have many times proved to be lack- 
ing in creatures endowed with a soul; yet he has 
never lost faith in mankind, or in the ultimate des- 
tiny of his race. This I conceive to be a character- 
istic of all great men. 

This trip was memorable for all of us, perhaps 
especially so for brother Will, for it comprehended 
not only his first deer, but his first negro. 

As vv^e drew near the Missouri line we came upon 
a comfortable farm-house, at which father made 
inquiry concerning a lodging for the night. A widow 
lived there, and the information that father was 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 9 

brother to Elijah Cody, of Platte County, Missouri, 
won us a cordial welcome and the hospitality of her 
home. 

We were yet in the road, waiting father^s report, 
when our startled vision and childish imagination 
took in a seeming apparition, which glided from the 
bushes by the wayside. 

It proved a full-blooded African, with thick lips, 
woolly hair, enormous feet, and scant attire. To 
all except mother this was a new revelation of hu- 
manity, and we stared In wild-eyed wonder; even 
Turk was surprised Into silence. At this point 
father rejoined us, to share In mother's amusement 
and to break the spell for us by pleasantly address- 
ing the negro, who returned a respectful answer, 
accompanied by an ample grin. He was a slave on 
the widow's plantation. 

Reassured by the grin. Will offered his hand, and 
tasted the joy of being addressed as "Massa" in the 
talk that followed. It was with difficulty that we 
prevailed upon "Massa" to come to supper. 

After a refreshing night's sleep we went on our 
way, and In a few days reached my uncle's home. A 
rest was welcome, as the journey had been long and 
toilsome, despite the fact that it had been enlivened 
by many Interesting Incidents, and was thoroughly 
enjoyed by all of the family. 



CHAPTER II 



will's first INDIAN 



My uncle's home was in Weston, Platte County, 
Missouri, at that time the large city of the West. 
As father desired to get settled again as soon as 
possible, he left us at Weston, and crossed the Mis- 
souri River on a prospecting tour, accompanied by 
Will and a guide. More than one day went by in 
the quest for a desirable location, and one morning 
Will, wearied in the reconnoissance, was left asleep 
at the night's camping-place, while father and the 
guide rode away for the day's exploring. 

When Will opened his eyes, they fell upon the 
most interesting object that the world just then 
could offer him — an Indian! 

The "noble red man," as he has been poetically 
termed by people who have but known him from 
afar, was in the act of mounting Will's horse, while 
near by stood his own, a miserable, scrawny beast. 

Will's boyish dreams were now a reality; he 
looked upon his first Indian. Here, too, was a 
''buck" — not a graceful, vanishing deer, but a dirty 
redskin, who seemingly was in some hurry to be 
gone. Without a trace of "buck fever," Will 
jumped up, rifle in hand, and demanded: 

10 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS ii 

"Here, what are you doing with my horse?'* 

The Indian regarded the lad with contemptuous 
composure. 

"Me swap horses with paleface boy," said he. 

The red man was fully armed, and Will did not 
know whether his father and the guide were within 
call or not; but to suffer the Indian to ride away 
with Uncle Elijah's fine horse was to forfeit his 
father's confidence and shake his mother's and sis- 
ter's belief in the family hero; so he put a bold face 
upon the matter, and remarked carelessly, as if dis- 
cussing a genuine transaction: 

"No; I won't swap." 

"Paleface boy fool" returned the Indian serenely. 

Now this was scarcely the main point at issue, so 
Will contented himself with replying, quietly but 
firmly : 

"You cannot take my horse." 

The Indian condescended to temporize. "Pale- 
face horse no good," said he. 

"Good enough for me," replied Will, smiling de- 
spite the gravity of the situation. The Indian shone 
rather as a liar than a judge of horseflesh. "Good 
enough for me; so you can take your old rack of 
bones and go." 

Much to Will's surprise, the red man dropped 
the rein, flung himself upon his own pony, and made 
off. And down fell "Lo the poor Indian" from the 
exalted niche that he had filled in Will's esteem, for 
while it was bad in a copper hero to steal horses, it 
was worse to flee from a boy not yet in his teens. 
But a few moments later Lo went back to his lofty 
pedestal, for Will heard the guide's voice, and real- 
ized that it was the sight of a man, and not the 



12 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

threats of a boy, that had sent the Indian about his 
business — If he had any. 

The guide had returned to escort Will to the 
spot which father, after a search of nearly a week, 
had discovered, and where he had decided to locate 
our home. It was in Salt Creek Valley, a fertile blue- 
grass region, sheltered by an amphitheater range of 
hills. The old Salt Lake trail traversed this valley. 
There were at this time two great highways of 
Western travel, the Santa Fe and the Salt Lake 
trails; later the Oregon trail came into prominence. 
Of these the oldest and most historic was the Santa 
Fe trail, the route followed by explorers three hun- 
dred years ago. It had been used by Indian tribes 
from time, to white men, immemorial. At the be- 
ginning of this century It was first used as an artery 
of commerce. Over it Zebulon Pike made his well- 
known Western trip, and from it radiated his ex- 
plorations. The trail lay some distance south of 
Leavenworth. It ran westward, dipping slightly to 
the south until the Arkansas River was reached; 
then, following the course of this stream to Bent's 
Fort, It crossed the river and turned sharply to the 
south. It went through Raton Pass, and below Las 
Vegas it turned west to Santa Fe. 

Exploration along the line of the Salt Lake trail 
began also with this century. It became a beaten 
highway at the time of the Mormon exodus from 
Nauvoo to their present place of abode. The trail 
crossed the Missouri River at Leavenworth, and 
ran northerly to the Platte, touching that stream at 
Fort Kearney. With a few variations it paralleled 
the Platte to its junction with the Sweetwater, and 
left this river valley to run through South Pass to 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 13 

big Sandy Creek, turning south to follow this little 
stream. At Fort Bridger it turned westward again, 
passed Echo Caiion, and a few miles farther on ran 
into Salt Lake City.. Over this trail journeyed 
thousands of gold-hunters toward California, hope- 
ful and high-spirited on the westerly way, disap- 
pointed and depressed, the large majority of them, 
on the back track. Freighting outfits, cattle trains, 
emigrants — nearly all the western travel — followed 
this track across the new land. A man named Rive- 
ly, with the gift of grasping the advantage of lo- 
cation, had obtained permission to establish a trad- 
ing-post on this trail three miles beyond the Mis- 
souri, and as proximity to this depot of supplies was 
a manifest convenience, father's selection of a claim 
only two miles distant was a wise one. 

The Kansas-Nebraska Bill, which provided for 
the organizing of those two territories and opened 
them for settlement, was passed In May, 1854. 
This bill directly opposed the Missouri Compro- 
mise, which restricted slavery to all territory south 
of 36° 30" north latitude. A clause in the new bill 
provided that the settlers should decide for them- 
selves whether the new territories were to be free 
or slave states. Already hundreds of settlers were 
camped upon the banks of the Missouri, waiting 
the passage of the bill before entering and acquir- 
ing possession of the land. Across the curtain of 
the night ran a broad ribbon of dancing camp-fires, 
stretching for miles along the bank of the river. 

None too soon had father fixed upon his claim. 
The act allowing settlers to enter was passed in 
less than a week afterward. Besides the pioneers 
intending actual settlement, a great rush was made 



14 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

into the territories by members of both political 
parties. These became the gladiators, with Kansas 
the arena, for a bitter, bloody contest between those 
desiring and those opposing the extension of slave 
territory. 

Having already decided upon his location, father 
was among the first, after the bill was passed, to 
file a claim and procure the necessary papers, and 
shortly afterward he had a transient abiding-place 
prepared for us. Whatever mother may have 
thought of the one-roomed cabin, whose chinks let 
in the sun by day and the moon and stars by night, 
and whose carpet was nature's greenest velvet, life 
in it was a perennial picnic for the children. Mean- 
time, father was at work on our permanent home, 
and before the summer fled we were domiciled in a 
large double-log house — rough and primitive, but 
solid and comfort-breeding. 

This same autumn held an episode so deeply' 
graven in my memory that time has not blurred a 
line of it. Jane, our faithful maid of all work, who 
went with us to our Western home, had little time 
to play the governess. Household duties claim&d 
her every waking hour, as mother was delicate, and 
the family a large one; so Turk officiated as both 
guardian and playmate of the children. 

One golden September day Eliza and I set out 
after wild flowers, accompanied by Turk and moth- 
er's caution not to stray too far, as wild beasts, 
'twas said, lurked in the neighboring forest; but 
the prettiest flowers were always just beyond, and 
we wandered afield until we reached a fringe of 
timber half a mile from the house, where we tarried 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 15 

under the trees. Meantime, mother grew alarmed, 
and Will was dispatched after the absent tots. 

Turk, as we recalled, had sought to put a check 
upon our wanderings, and when we entered the 
woods his restlessness increased. Suddenly he began 
to paw up the carpet of dry leaves, and a few mo- 
ments later the shrill scream of a panther echoed 
through the forest aisles. 

Eliza was barely six years old, and I was not yet 
four. We clung to each other in voiceless terror. 
Then from afar came a familiar whistle — Will's 
call to his dog. That heartened us, babes as we 
were, for was not our brother our reliance in every 
emergency? Rescue was at hand; but Turk con- 
tinued tearing up the leaves, after signaling his mas- 
ter with a loud bark. Then, pulling at our dresses, 
he indicated the refuge he had dug for us. Here 
we lay down, and the dog covered us with the 
leaves, dragging to the heap, as a further screen, a 
large dead branch. Then, with the heart of a lion, 
he put himself on guard. 

From our leafy covert we could see the panther's 
tawny form come gliding through the brush. He 
saw Turk, and crouched for a spring. This came 
as an arrow, but Turk dodged it; and then, with a 
scream such as I never heard from dog before or 
since, our defender hurled himself upon the foe. 

Turk was powerful, and his courage was flawless, 
but he was no match for the panther. In a few 
moments the faithful dog lay stunned and bleeding 
from one stroke of the forest-rover's steel-shod paw. 
The cruel beast had scented other prey, and dismiss- 
ing Turk, he paced to and fro, seeking to locate us. 
We scarcely dared to breathe, and every throb of 



1 6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

■ \. 

our frightened little hearts was a prayer that Will 
would come to us in time. 

At last the panther's roving eyes rested upon our 
inadequate hiding-place, and as he crouched for the 
deadly leap we hid our faces. 

But Turk had arisen. Wounded as he was, he 
yet made one last heroic effort to save us by again 
directing the panther's attention to himself. 

The helpless, hopeless ordeal of agony was bro- 
ken by a rifle's sharp report. The panther fell, shot 
through the heart, and out from the screen of leaves 
rushed two hysterical little girls, with pallid faces 
drowned in tears, who clung about a brother's neck 
and were shielded in his arms. 

Will, himself but a child, caressed and soothed 
us in a most paternal fashion; and when the storm 
of sobs was passed we turned to Turk. Happily 
his injuries were not fatal, and he whined feebly 
when his master reached him. 

"Bravo! Good dog!" cried Will. *Tou saved 
them, Turk! You saved them!" And kneeling 
beside our faithful friend, he put his arms about the 
shaggy neck. 

Dear old Turk! If there be a land beyond the 
sky for such as thou, may the snuggest corner and 
best of bones be thy reward! 



CHAPTER III 

THE SHADOW OF PARTISAN STRIFE 

Owing to the conditions, already spoken of, un- 
der which Kansas was settled, all classes were rep- 
resented in its population. Honest, thrifty farmers 
and well-to-do traders leavened a lump of shiftless 
ne'er-do-wells, lawless adventurers, and vagabonds 
of all sorts and conditions. If father at times ques- 
tioned the wisdom of coming to this new and untried 
land, he kept his own counsel, and set a brave face 
against the future. 

He had been prominent in political circles in 
Iowa, and had filled positions of public trust; but he 
had no wish to become involved in the partisan 
strife that raged in Kansas. He was a Free Soil 
man, and there were but two others in that section 
who did not believe in slavery. For a year he kept 
his political views to himself; but it became rumored 
about that he was an able public speaker, and the 
pro-slavery men naturally ascribed to him the same 
opinions as those held by his brother Elijah, a pro- 
nounced pro-slavery man; so they regarded father 
as a promising leader in their cause. He had avoid- 
ed the issue, and had skilfully contrived to escape 
declaring for one side or the other, but on the scroll 

17 



1 8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

of his destiny it was written that he should be one 
of the first victims offered on the sacrificial altar of 
the struggle for human liberty. 

The post-trader's was a popular rendezvous for 
all the settlers round. It was a day in the summer 
of ^ SS that father visited the store, accompanied, as 
usual, by Will and Turk. Among the crowd, which 
was noisy and excited, he noted a number of des- 
peradoes in the pro-slavery faction, and noted, too, 
that Uncle Elijah and our two Free Soil neighbors, 
Mr. Hathaway and Mr. Lawrence, were present. 

Father's appearance was greeted by a clamor for 
a speech. To speak before that audience was to 
take his life in his hands; yet in spite of his excuses 
he was forced to the chair. 

It was written! There was no escape! Father 
walked steadily to the dry-goods box which served 
as a rostrum. As he passed Mr. Hathaway, the 
good old man plucked him by the sleeve and begged 
him to serve out platitudes to the crowd, and to 
screen his real sentiments. 

But father was not a man that dealt in platitudes. 

"Friends," said he quietly, as he faced his audi- 
ence and drew himself to his full height, — "friends, 
you are mistaken in your man. I am sorry to dis- 
appoint you. I have no wish to quarrel with you. 
But you have forced me to speak, and I can do no 
less than declare my real convictions. I am, and 
always have been, opposed to slavery. It is an in- 
stitution that not only degrades the slave, but bru- 
talizes the slave-holder, and I pledge you my word 
that I shall use my best endeavors — ^yes, that I shall 
lay down my life, if need be — to keep this curse 
from finding lodgment upon Kansas soil. It is 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 19 

enough that the fairest portions of our land are 
already Infected with this blight. May It spread 
no farther. All my energy and my ability shall 
swell the effort to bring in Kansas as a Free Soil 
state." 

Up to this point the crowd had been so dum- 
founded by his temerity that they kept an astonished 
silence. Now the storm broke. The rumble of 
angry voices swelled into a roar o-f fury. An angry 
mob surrounded the speaker. Several desperadoes 
leaped forward with deadly Intent, and one, Charles 
Dunn by name, drove his knife to the hilt into the 
body of the brave man who dared thus openly to 
avow his principles. 

As father fell. Will sprang to him, and turning 
to the murderous assailant, cried out In boyhood's 
fury: 

"You have killed my father! When Tm a man 
ni kill you!" 

The crowd slunk away, believing father dead. 
The deed appalled them; they were not yet hard- 
ened to the lawlessness that was so soon to put the 
state to blush. 

Mr. Hathaway and Will then carried father to a 
hiding-place in the long grass by the wayside. The 
crowd dispersed so slowly that dusk came on before 
the coast was clear. At length, supported by Will, 
father dragged his way homeward, marking his tor- 
tured progress with a trail of blood. 

This path was afterward referred to In the early 
history of Kansas as "The Cody Bloody Trail." 

It was such wild scenes as these that left their im- 
press on the youth and fashioned the Cody of later 
years — cool in emergency, fertile in resource, swift 



20 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

in decision, dashing and Intrepid when the time for 
action came. 

Our troubles were but begun. Father's convales- 
cence was long and tedious; he never recovered 
fully. His enemies believed him dead, and for a 
while we kept the secret guarded; but as soon as he 
was able to be about persecution began. 

About a month after the tragedy at RIvely's, Will 
ran In one evening with the warning that a band of 
horsemen were approaching. Suspecting trouble, 
mother put some of her own clothes about father, 
gave him a pall, and bade him hide In the cornfield. 
He walked boldly from the house, and, sheltered 
by the gathering dusk, succeeded In passing the 
horsemen unchallenged. The latter rode up to 
the house and dismounted. 

* Where's Cody?" asked the leader. He was 
informed that father was not at home. 

"Lucky for him!" was the frankly brutal rejoin- 
der. "We'll make sure work of the killing next 
time!" 

Disappointed in their main intention, the ma- 
rauders revenged themselves In their own peculiar 
way by looting the house of every article that took 
their fancy; then they sat down with the announced 
purpose of waiting the return of their prospective 
victim. 

Fearing the effect of the night air upon father, 
though it was yet summer, mother made a sign to 
Will, who slipped from the room, and guided by 
Turk, carried blankets to the cornfield, returning 
before his absence had been remarked. The ruf- 
fians soon tired of waiting, and rode away, after 
warning mother of the brave deed they purposed to 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 21 

perform. Father came in for the night, returning 
to his covert with the dawn. 

In expectation of some such raid, we had secreted 
a good stock of provisions; but as soon as the day 
was up Will was dispatched to Rively's store to 
reconnoiter, under pretext of buying groceries. 
Keeping eyes and ears open, he learned that father's 
enemies were on the watch for him; so the cornfield 
must remain his screen. After several days the 
exposure and anxiety told on his strength. He de- 
cided to leave home and go to Fort Leavenworth, 
four miles distant. When night fell he returned to 
the house, packed a few needed articles, and bade 
us farewell. Will urged that he ride Prince, but he 
regarded his journey as safer afoot. It was a sad 
parting. None of us knew whether we should ever 
again see our father. 

"I hope," he said to mother, "that these clouds 
will soon pass away, and that we may have a happy 
home once more." Then, placing his hands on 
WilFs head, "You will have to be the man of the 
house until my return," he said. "But I know I can 
trust my boy to watch over his mother and sisters." 

With such responsibilities placed upon his shoul- 
ders, such confidence reposed in him, small wonder 
that Will should grow a man in thought and feeling 
before he grew to be one in years. 

Father reached Fort Leavenworth In safety, but 
the quarrel between the pro-slavery party and the 
Free Sollers waxed more bitter, and he decided that 
security lay farther on; so he took passage on an 
up-river boat to Doniphan, twenty miles distant. 
This was then a mere landing-place, but he found a 
small band of men In camp cooking supper. They 



2 2 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

were part of Colonel Jim Lane's command, some 
three hundred strong, on their way West from In- 
diana. 

Colonel Lane was an interesting character. He 
had been a friend to Elijah Lovejoy, who was killed, 
in 1836, for maintaining an anti-slavery newspaper 
in Illinois. The Kansas contest speedily developed 
the fact that the actual settlers sent from the North 
by the emigrant-aid societies would enable the Free 
State party to outnumber the ruffians sent in by the 
Southerners; and when the pro-slavery men were 
driven to substituting bullets for ballots, Colonel 
Lane recruited a band of hardy men to protect the 
anti-slavery settlers, and incidentally to avenge the 
murder of Lovejoy. 

The meeting of father and Lane's men was a 
meeting of friends, and he chose to cast his lot with 
theirs. Shortly afterward he took part in "The 
Battle of Hickory Point," in which the pro-slavery 
men were defeated with heavy loss; and thencefor- 
ward the name of Jim Lane was a terror to the law- 
less and a wall of protection to our family. 

The storm and stress of battle had drawn heavily 
on what little strength was left to father, and rely- 
ing for safety upon the proximity of Colonel Lane 
and his men, he returned to us secretly by night, and 
was at once prostrated on a bed of sickness. 

This proved a serious strain upon our delicate 
mother, for during father's absence a little brother 
had been added to our home, and not only had she, 
in addition to the care of Baby Charlie, the nursing 
of a sick man, but she was constantly harassed by 
apprehensions for his safety as well. 



CHAPTER IV 

PERSECUTION CONTINUES 

Mother's fears were well grounded. A few- 
days after father had returned home, a man named 
Sharpe, who disgraced the small office of justice of 
the peace, rode up to our house, very much the 
worse for liquor, and informed mother that his er- 
rand was to "search the 'house for that abolition 
husband of yours." The intoxicated ruffian then 
demanded spmething to eat. While mother, with 
a show of hospitality, was preparing supper for him, 
the amiable Mr. Sharpe killed time in sharpening 
his bowie-knife on the sole of his shoe. 

*'That," said he to Will, who stood watching him, 
"that's to cut the heart out of that Free State father 
of yours!" And he tested the edge with .brutally 
suggestive care. 

Will's comment was to take down his rifle and 
place himself on the staircase leading up to father's 
room. There was trouble in that quarter for Mr. 
Sharpe if he attempted to ascend those stairs. 

But the justice, as mother surmised, had no notion 
that father was at home, else he would not have 
come alone. He ate heartily of the supper, which 
Will hoped would choke him, and passing from 

23 



24 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

drowsiness to drunken slumber, soon tumbled from 
his chair. This so confused him that he forgot his 
pretended errand, and shambled out of the house. 
He was not so drunk that he could not tell a good 
bit of horseflesh, and he straightway took a fancy- 
to Prince, the pet pony of the family. An unwrit- 
ten plank In the platform of the pro-slavery men 
was that the Free Soil party had no rights they 
were bound to respect, and Sharpe remarked to 
Will, with a malicious grin : 

"That's a nice pony of yours, sonny. Guess I'll 
take him along with me." And he proceeded to ex- 
change the saddle from the back of his own horse 
to that of Prince. 

"You old coward!" muttered Will, bursting with 
wrath. "I'll get even with you some day." 

The justice was a tall, burly fellow, and he cut so 
ridiculous a figure as he rode away on Prince's back, 
his heels almost touching the ground, that Will 
laughed outright as he thought of a plan to save his 
pony. 

A shrill whistle brought Turk to the scene, and 
receiving his cue, the dog proceeded to give Sharpe 
a very bad five minutes. He would nip at one of 
the dangling legs, spring back out of reach of the 
v/hip with a triumphant bark, then repeat the per- 
formance with the other leg. This little comedy 
had a delighted spectator In Will, who had followed 
at a safe distance. Just as Sharpe made one extra 
effort to reach Turk, the boy whistled a signal to 
Prince, who responded with a bound that dumped 
his rider In the dust. Here Turk stood over him 
and showed his teeth. 

"Call off your dog, bub!" the justice shouted to 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 25 

Will, *'and you may keep your little sheep, for he's 
no good, anyway." 

"That's a bargain!" cried Will, restored to good 
humor; and helping the vanquished foe upon his 
own steed, he assured him that he need not fear 
Turk so long as he kept his word. Sharpe departed, 
but we were far from being rid of him. 

About a fortnight later we were enjoying an 
evening with father, who was now able to come 
downstairs. He was seated in a big arm-chair be- 
fore the open fire, with his family gathered round 
him, by his side our frail, beautiful mother, with 
Baby Charlie on her knee, Martha and Julia, with 
their sewing, and Will, back of mother's chair, ten- 
derly smoothing the hair from her brow, while he 
related spiritedly some new escapade of Turk. Sud- 
denly he checked his narrative, listened for a space, 
and announced: 

"There are some men riding on the road toward 
the house. We'd better be ready for trouble." 

Mother, equal to every emergency, hurriedly dis- 
posed her slender forces for defense. Matha and 
Julia were directed to help father to bed; that done, 
to repair to the unfurnished front room above 
stairs; Will was Instructed to call the hired man and 
Jane, who was almost as large and quite as strong 
as the average man; and the three were armed and 
given their cue. They were all handy with their 
weapons, but mother sought to win by strategy, If 
possible. She bade the older girls don heavy boots, 
and gave them further instructions. By this time 
the horsemen had reached the gate. Their leader 
was the redoubtable Justice Sharpe. He rode up to 



26 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the door, and rapped with the butt of his riding- 
whip. Mother threw up the window overhead. 

**Who's there, and what do you want?" she de- 
manded. 

"We want that old abolition husband of yours, 
and, dead or alive, we mean to have him !" 

"All right, Mr. Sharpe," was the steady answer. 
"I'll ask Colonel Lane and his men to wait on you." 

The hired man, who had served in the Mexican 
War, here gave a sharp word of command, which 
was responded to by trampling of heavy boots upon 
the bare floor. Then, calling a halt, the pretended 
Colonel Lane advanced to the window and shouted 
to the horsemen: 

"Set foot inside that gate and my men will fire on 
you!" 

Sharpe, an arrant coward, had retreated at the 
first sound of a man's voice, and after a short par- 
ley with his nonplused companions he led them away 
— outwitted by a woman. 

As a sort of consolation prize, Sharpe again made 
off with Prince; but Will's sorrow in the morning 
was short-lived, for the sagacious little creature 
slipped his halter and came flying home before the 
forenoon was half spent. 

After this experience father decided that, for our 
sakes as well as for his own, he must again leave 
home, and as soon as he recovered a measure of his 
strength he went to Grasshopper Falls, thirty-five 
miles west of Leavenworth. Here he erected a saw- 
mill, and hoped that he had put so many miles be- 
tween him and his enemies that he might be allowed 
to pursue a peaceful occupation. He made us occa- 
sional visits, so timing his journey that he reached 




TO SAVE A FATHER'S LIFE. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 27 

home after nightfall, and left again before the sun 
was up. 

One day when we were looking forward to one of 
these visits, our good friend Mr. Hathaway made 
his appearance about eleven o'clock. 

"It is too bad to be the bearer of ill tidings," 
said he, "but the news of your husband's expected 
visit has been noised about in some way, and another 
plot to kill him is- afoot. Some of his enemies arc 
camped at Big Stranger's Creek, and intend to shoot 
him as he passes there." 

Then followed a long and anxious consultation, 
ivhich ended without any plan of rescue. 

All of which had been overheard by Will, who 
was confined to his bed with an attack of ague. In 
him, he decided, lay the only hope' for father's 
safety; so, dressing, he presented his fever-flushed 
face to mother. As he held out a handkerchief, 
"Tie It tight around my head, mother," said he; 
"then it won't ache so hard." 

A remonstrance against his getting out of bed 
brought out the fact that he contemplated riding to 
Grasshopper Falls! 

He was almost too weak to stand, a storm threat- 
ened, and thirty miles lay between him and father; 
yet he was not to be dissuaded from his undertaking. 
So Julia and Martha saddled Prince and helped the 
ague-racked courier to his saddle. 

The plunge Into the open air and the excitement 
of the start encouraged Will to believe that he could 
hold out. As he settled down to his long, hard ride 
.he reflected that It was not yet noon, and that father 
would not set out until late in the day. Prince 



28 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

seemed to discern that something extraordinary was 
afoot, and swung along at a swift, steady gait. 

Big Stranger's Creek cut the road halfway to the 
Falls, and Will approached it before the afternoon 
was half gone. The lowering sky darkened the 
highway, and he hoped to pass the ambush unrec- 
ognized; but as he came up to the stream he made 
out a camp and campers, one of whom called out 
carelessly to him as he passed: 

"Are you all right on the goose?" — the cant 
phrase of the pro-slavery men. 

*'Never rode a goose in my life, gentlemen," was 
the reply. 

^'That's Cody's boy!" shouted another voice*; and 
the word "Halt!" rang out just as Will had gal- 
loped safely past the camp. 

Will's answer was to drive the spurs into Prince 
and dart ahead, followed by a rain of bullets. He 
was now well out of range, and the pony still strong 
and fleet. 

The chase was on, and in the thrill of It Will for- 
got his weakness. A new strength came with the 
rush of air and the ring of hoofs, and "Fll reach the 
Falls In time !" was his heartening thought, as pur- 
suer and pursued sped through the forests, clattered 
over bridges, and galloped up hill and down. 

Then broke the long-Impending storm, and the 
hard road became the bed of a muddy stream. The 
pursuit was abandoned, and this stimulus removed, 
Will felt the chills and weakness coming on ap-aln. 
He was drenched to the skin, and It was an effort 
to keep his saddle, but he set his teeth firmly In his 
resolve to accomplish his heroic purpose. 

At last! A welcome light gleamed between the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 29 

crystal bars of the rain. His mission was accom- 
plished. 

His ride had been longer by ten miles than that 
famous gallop of the friend of his after years — Phil 
Sheridan. Like Sheridan, he reached the goal in 
time, for father was just mounting his horse. 

But the ride proved too much for his strength, 
and Will collapsed. Father started with him, a 
few days later, for Topeka, which was headquarters 
for the Free State party. 

Father acquainted mother of their safety, and 
explained that he had gone to Topeka because he 
feared his life was no longer safe at Grasshopper 
Falls. 

Party strife In Kansas was now at its height. 
Thousands came into the territory from adjacent 
slave states simply to vote, and the pro-slavery party 
elected a legislature, whose first meeting was held at 
Le Compton. This election the Free Soilers de- 
clared illegal, because of fraudulent voting, and as- 
sembhng at Topeka in the winter of 1855-56, they 
framed a constitution excluding slavery, and organ- 
ized a rival government. Of this first Free-Soil 
Legislature father was a member. 

Thenceforth war was the order of the day, and 
in the fall of 1856 a military governor was appoint- 
ed, with full authority to maintain law and order in 
Kansas. 

Recognizing the good work effected by the emi- 
grant-aid societies, and reahzing that in a still larger 
Northern emigration to Kansas lay the only hope of 
its admission as a free state, father went to Ohio in 
the following spring, to labor for the salvation of 
the territory he had chosen for his home. Here his 



30 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

natural gift of oratory had free play, and as the 
result of his work on the stump he brought back to 
Kansas sixty families, the most of whom settled in 
the vicinity of Grasshopper Falls, now Valley Falls. 

This meant busy times for us, for with that mag- 
nificent disregard for practical matters that charac- 
terizes many men of otherwise great gifts, father 
had invited each separate family to make headquar- 
ters at his home until other arrangements could be 
perfected. As a result, our house overflowed, while 
the land about us was dotted with tents; but these 
melted away, as one by one the families selected 
claims and put up cabins. 

Among the other settlers was Judge Delahay, 
who, with his family, located at Leavenworth, and 
began the publishing of the first abolition newspaper 
in Kansas. The appointing of the military gov- 
ernor was the means of restoring comparative tran- 
quillity; but hundreds of outrages were committed, 
and the judge and his newspaper came in for a share 
of suffering. The prIntlng-ofHce was broken into, 
and the type and press thrown Into the Missouri 
River. Undaunted, the judge procured a new press, 
and the paper continued. 

A semi-quiet now reigned in the territory; father 
resumed work at the sawmill, and we looked for- 
ward to a peaceful home and the joy of being once 
more permanently united. But It was not to be. 
The knife wound had Injured father's lung. With 
care and nursing It might have healed, but constant 
suffering attended on the life that persecution had 
led him, and in the spring of '57 he again came 
home, and took to his bed for the last time. 

All that could be was done, but nothing availed. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 31 

After a very short illness he passed away — one of 
the first martyrs in the cause of freedom in Kansas. 
The land of his adoption became his last, long 
resting-place. His remains now lie on Pilot Knob, 
which overlooks the beautiful city of Leavenworth. 
His death was regretted even by his enemies, who 
could not help but grant a tribute of respect to a 
man who had been upright, just, and generous to 
friend and foe. 



CHAPTER V 

THE 

At this sorrowful period mother was herself al- 
most at death's door with consumption, but far 
from sinking under the blow, she faced the new 
conditions with a steadfast calm, realizing that 
should she, too, be taken, her children would be left 
without a protector, and at the mercy of the enemies 
whose malignity had brought their father to an un- 
timely end. Her indomitable will opposed her 
bodily weakness. *'I will not die," she told herself, 
"until the welfare of my children is assured." She 
was needed, for our persecution continued. . 

Hardly was the funeral over when a trumped-up 
claim for a thousand dollars, for lumber and sup- 
plies, was entered against our estate. Mother knew 
the claim was fictitious, as all the bills had been set- 
tled, but the business had been transacted through 
the agency of Uncle Elijah, and father had neglect- 
ed to secure the receipts. In those bitter, troublous 
days it too often happened that brother turned 
against brother, and Elijah retained his fealty to his 
party at the expense of his dead brother's family. 

This fresh affliction but added fuel to the flame of 
mother's energy. Our home was paid for, but 

32 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 33 

father's business had been made so broken and ir- 
regular that our financial resources were of the slen- 
derest, and should this unjust claim for a thousand 
dollars be allowed, we would be homeless. 

The result of mother's study of the situation was, 
■*'If I had the ready money, I should fight the claim." 

"You fight the claim, and I'll get the money," 
Will replied. 

Mother smiled, but Will continued: 

*'Russell, Majors & Waddell will give me work. 
Jim Willis says I am capable of filling the position 
of 'extra.' If you'll go with me and ask Mr. Ma- 
jors for a job, I'm sure he'll give me one." 

Russell, Majors & Waddell was overland freight- 
ers and contractors, with headquarters at Leaven- 
worth. To Will's suggestion mother entered a de- 
murrer, but finally yielded before his insistence. 
Mr. Majors had known father, and was more than 
willing to aid us, but Will's youth was an objection 
not lightly overridden. 

"What can a boy of your age do?" he asked 
kindly. 

"I can ride, shoot, and herd cattle," said Will; 
^'but I'd rather be an 'extra' on one of your trains." 

"But that is a man's work, and is dangerous be- 
sides." Mr. Majors hesitated. "But I'll let you 
try it one trip, and if you do a man's work, I'll give 
you a man's pay." 

So Will's name was put on the company roll, and 
he signed a pledge that illustrates better than a de- 
scription the character and disposition of Mr. Ma- 
jors. 

"I, William F. Cody," It read, "do hereby sol- 
emnly swear, before the great and living God, that 



34 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

during my engagement with, and while I am in the 
employ of, Russell, Majors & Waddell, I will, under 
no circumstances, use profane language, that I will 
not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the 
firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself 
honestly, be faithful to my duties,- and so direct all 
my acts as to win the confidence of my employers. 
So help me God!" 

Mr. Majors employed many wild and reckless 
men, but the language of the pledge penetrated to 
the better nature of them all. They endeavord^ 
with varying success, to live up to its vc^nditions, al- 
though most of them held that driving a bull-team 
constituted extenuating circumstances for an occa- 
sional expletive. 

The pledge lightened mother's heart; she knew 
that Will would keep his word; she felt, too, that 
a man that required such a pledge of his employees 
was worthy of their confidence and esteem. 

The train was to start in a day, and all of us 
were busy with the preparations for Will's two 
months' trip. The moment of parting came, and 
it was a trying ordeal for mother, so recently be- 
reaved of husband. Will sought to soothe her, but 
the younger sisters had better success, for with tears 
in our eyes we crowded about him, Imploring him 
to "run If he saw any Indians." 

'Tis but a step from tears to smiles ; the situation 
was relieved, and Will launched his life bark amid 
adieus of hope and confidence and love. His for- 
titude lasted only till he was out of sight of the 
house; but youth Is elastic, the plains lay before him,, 
and mother and sisters were to be helped; so he 
presented a cheerful face to his employers. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 35 

That night the bed of the *'boy extra'' was a 
blanket under a wagon; but he slept soundly, and 
was ready when the train started with the dawn. 

The *'bull-train" took its name from the fact that 
each of the thirty-five wagons making up a full train 
was hauled by several yoke of oxen, driven by one 
man, known as a bullwhacker. This functionary's 
whip cracked like a rifle, and could be heard about 
as far. The wagons resembled the ordinary prairie- 
schooner, but were larger and more strongly built; 
they were protected from the weather by a double 
covering of heavy canvas, and had a freight ca- 
pacity of seven thousand pounds. 

Besides the bullwhackers there were cavallard 
drivers (who cared for the loose cattle), night 
herders, and sundry extra hands, all under the 
charge of a chief wagon-master, termed the wagon- 
boss, his lieutenants being the boss of the cattle train 
and the assistant wagon-master. The men were 
disposed in messes, each providing Its own wood and 
water, doing its own cooking, and washing up its 
own tin dinner service, while one man in each di- 
vision stood guard. Special duties were assigned to 
the "extras," and Will's was to ride up and down 
the train delivering orders. This suited his fancy 
to a dot, for the oxen were snail-gaited, and to plod 
at their heels was dull work. Kipling tells us it is 
quite impossible to "hustle the East"; it were as 
easy, as Will discovered, to hustle a bull-train. 

From the outset the "boy extra" was a favorite 
with the men. They liked his pluck in undertaking 
such work, and when it was seen that he took pride 
in executing orders promptly, he became a favorite 
with the bosses as well. In part, his work was play 



36 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

to him ; he welcomed an order as a break in the mo- 
notony of the daily march, and hailed the oppor- 
tunity of a gallop on a good horse. 

The world of Will's fancy was bounded by the 
hazy rim where plain and sky converge, and when 
the first day's journey was done, and he had staked 
out and cared for his horse, he watched with fas- 
cinated eyes the strange and striking picture limned 
against the black hills and the sweeping stretch of 
darkening prairie. Everything was animation; the 
bullwhackers unhitching and disposing of their 
team.s, the herders staking out the cattle, and — not 
the least interesting — the mess cooks preparing the 
evening meal at the crackling camp-fires, with the 
huge, canvascovered wagons encircling them like 
ghostly sentinels; the ponies and oxen blinking stu- 
pidly as the flames stampeded the shadows in which 
they were enveloped; and more weird than all, the 
buckskin-clad bullwhackers, squatted around the fire, 
their beards glowing red in its light, their faces 
drawn in strange black and yellow lines, while the 
spiked grasses shot tall and sword-like over them. 

It was wonderful — that first night of the *'boy 
extra." 

But Will discovered that life on the plains Is not 
all a supper under the stars when the sparks fly 
upward; it has its hardships and privations. There 
were days, as the wagons dragged their slow lengths 
along, when the clouds obscured the sky and the 
wind whistled dismally; days when torrents fell and 
swelled the streams that must be crossed, and when 
the mud lay ankle-deep; days when the cattle stam- 
peded, and the round-up meant long, extra hours of 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 37 

heavy work; and, hardest but most needed work of 
all, the eternal vigil 'gainst an Indian attack. 

Will did not share the anxiety of his companions. 
To him a brush with Indians would prove that boy- 
hood's dreams sometimes come true, and in imagi- 
nation he anticipated the glory of a first encounter 
with the "noble red man," after the fashion of the 
heroes in the hair-lifting Western tales he had read. 
He was soon to learn, as many another has learned, 
that the Indian of real life is vastly different from 
the Indian of fiction. He refuses to "bite the dust" 
at sight of a paleface, and a dozen of them have 
been known to hold their own against as many white 
men. 

Some twenty miles west of Fort Kearny a halt 
was made for dinner at the bank of a creek that 
emptied into the Platte River. No signs of Indians 
had been observed, and there was no thought of 
special danger. Nevertheless, three men were con- 
stantly on guard. Many of the trainmen were 
asleep under the wagons while waiting dinner, and 
Will was watching the maneuvers of the cook in his 
mess. Suddenly a score of shots rang out from the 
direction of a neighboring thicket, succeeded by a 
chorus of savage yells. 

Will saw the three men on the lookout drop in 
their tracks, and saw the Indians divide, one wing 
stampeding the cattle, the other charging down upon 
the camp. 

The trainmen were old frontiersmen, and al- 
though taken wholly by surprise, they lined up 
swiftly in battle array behind the wagons, with the 
bosses, Bill and Frank McCarthy, at their head, and 



38 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the "boy extra" under the direction of the wagon- 
master. 

A well-placed volley of rifle-balls checked the In- 
dians, and they wheeled and rode away, after send- 
ing in a scattering cloud of arrows, which wounded 
several of the trainmen. The decision of a hasty 
council of war was that a defensive stand would be 
useless, as the Indians outnumbered the whites ten 
to one, and red reinforcements were constantly 
coming up, until it seemed to Will as if the prairie 
were alive with them. The only hope of safety lay 
in the shelter of the creek's high bank, so a run was 
made for it. The Indians charged again, with the 
usual accompaniment of whoops, yells, and flying 
arrows; but the trainmen had reached the creek, 
and from behind its natural breastwork maintained 
a rifle fire that drove the foe back out of range. 

To follow the creek and river to Fort Kearny 
was not accounted much of a chance for escape, but 
it was the only avenue that lay open; so, with a 
parting volley to deceive the besiegers into thinking 
that the fort was still held, the perilous and diffi- 
cult journey was begun. 

The Indians quickly penetrated the ruse, and an- 
other charge had to be repulsed. Besides the tire- 
some work of wading, there were wounded men to 
help along, and a ceaseless watch to keep against 
another rush of the reds. It was a trying ordeal for 
a man, doubly so for a boy like Will; but he was 
encouraged to coolness and endurance by a few 
words from Frank McCarthy, who remarked ad- 
miringly, "Well, Billy, you didn't scare worth a 
cent." 

After a few miles of wading the little party is- 



.1 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 39 

sued out upon the Platte River. By this time the 
wounded men were so exhausted that a halt was 
called to improvise a raft. On this the sufferers 
were placed, and three or four men detailed to shove 
it before them. In consideration of his youth, Will 
was urged to get upon the raft, but he declined, 
saying that he was not wounded, and that if the 
stream got too deep for him to wade, he could swim. 
This was more than some of the men could do, and 
they, too, had to be assisted over the deep places. 

Thus wore the long and weary hours away, and 
though the men, who knew how hard a trip it was, 
often asked, "How goes it, Billy?" he uttered no 
word of complaint. 

But half a day's wading, without rest or food, 
gradually weighted his heels, and little by little he 
lagged behind his companions. The moon came out 
and silvered tree and river, but the silent, plodding 
band had no eyes for the glory of the landscape. 

Will had fallen behind some twenty rods, but in a 
moment fatigue was forgotten, the blood jumped In 
his veins, for just ahead of him the moonlight fell 
upon the feathered head-dress of an Indian chief, 
who was peering over the bank. Motionless, he 
watched the head, shoulders, and body of the brave 
come into view. The Indian supposed the entire 
party ahead, and Will made no move until the sav- 
age bent his bow. 

Then he realized, with a thumping heart, that 
death must come to one of his comrades or the In- 
dian. 

Even in direst necessity It Is a fearful thing to 
deliberately take a human life, but Will had no time 



40 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

for hesitation. There was a shot, and the Indian 
rolled down the bank into the river. 

His expiring yell was answered by others. The 
reds were not far away. Frank McCarthy, missing 
Will, stationed guards, and ran back to look for 
him. He found the lad hauling the dead warrior 
ashore, and seizing his hand, cried out: "Well 
done, my boy; you've killed your first Indian, and 
done it like a man!" 

Will wanted to stop and bury the body, but being 
assured that it was not only an uncustomary cour- 
tesy, but in this case quite impossible, he hastened 
on. As they came up with the waiting group, Mc- 
Carthy called out: 

"Pards, little Billy has killed his first redskin!" 

The announcement was greeted with cheers, 
which grated on Will's ears, for his heart was sick, 
and the cheers seemed strangely out of place. 

Little time, however, was afforded for sentiment 
of any sort. Enraged at the death of their scout, 
the Indians made a final charge, which was repulsed, 
like the others, and after this Bill McCarthy took 
the lead, with Frank at the rear, to prevent further 
straggling of the forces. 

It was a haggard-faced band that came up to 
Fort Kearny with the dawn. The wounded men 
were left at the post, while the others returned to 
the wrecked bull-train under escort of a body of 
troops. They hoped to make some salvage, but the 
cattle had either been driven away or had joined 
one of the numerous herds of buffalo; the wagons 
and their freight had been burned, and there was 
nothing to do but bury the three pickets, whose 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 41 

scalped and mutilated bodies were stretched where 
they had fallen. 

Then the troops and trainmen parted company, 
the former to undertake a bootless quest for the red 
marauders, the latter to return to Leavenworth, 
their occupation gone. The government held Itself 
responsible for the depredations of Its wards, and 
the loss of the wagons and cattle was assumed at 
Washington. 



CHAPTER VI 

FAMILY DEFENDER AND HOUSEHOLD TEASE 

The fame to which Byron woke one historic 
morning was no more unexpected to him than that 
which now greeted Will. The trainmen had not 
been over-modest in their accounts of his pluck; and 
when a newspaper reporter lent the magic of his 
Imagination to the plain narrative, it became quite 
a story, headed in display type, ''The Boy Indian 
Slayer." 

But Will was speedily concerned with other than 
his own affairs, for as soon as his position with the 
freighters was assured, mother engaged a lawyer to 
fight the claim against our estate. This legal light 
was John C. Douglass, then unknown, unhonored, 
and unsung, but talented and enterprising notwith- 
standing. He had just settled in Leavenworth, and 
he could scarcely have found a better case with 
which to storm the heights of fame — the dead 
father, the sick mother, the helpless children, and 
relentless persecution, in one scale; in the other, an 
eleven-year-old boy doing a man's work to earn the 
money needed to combat the family's enemies. 
Douglass put his whole strength into the case. 

He knew as well as we that our cause was weak; 

42 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 43 

it hung by a single thread — a missing witness, Mr. 
Barnhart. This man had acted as bookkeeper when 
the bills were paid, but he had been sent away, and 
the prosecution — or persecution — had thus far suc- 
ceeded in keeping his whereabouts a secret. To 
every place where he was likely to be, Lawyer 
Douglass had written; but we were as much in the 
dark as ever when the morning for the trial of the 
suit arrived. 

The case had excited much interest, and the court- 
room was crowded, many persons having been 
drawn thither by a curiosity to look upon "The Boy 
Indian Slayer.'* There was a cheerful unanimity of 
opinion upon the utter hopelessness of the Cody side 
of the case. Not only were prominent and wealthy 
men arrayed against us, but our young and inexperi- 
enced lawyer faced the heaviest legal guns of the 
Leavenworth bar. Our only witnesses were a frail 
woman and a girl of eighteen, though by their side, 
with his head held high, was the family protector, 
our brave young brother. Against us were might 
and malignity; upon our side, right and the high 
courage with which Christianity steels the soul of a 
believer. Mother had faith that the invisible forces 
of the universe were fighting for our cause. 

She and Martha swore to the fact that all the 
bills had been settled; and after the opposition had 
rested its case, Lawyer Douglass arose for the de- 
fense. His was a magnificent plea for the rights of 
the widow and the orphan, and was conceded to be 
one of the finest speeches ever heard in a Kansas 
court-room ; but though all were moved by our coun- 
sel's eloquence — some unto tears by the pathos of 
it — though the justice of our cause was freely ad- 



44 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

mitted througnout the court-room, our best friends 
feared the verdict. 

But the climax was as stunning to our enemies as 
it was unexpected. As Lawyer Dougless finished his 
last ringing period, the missing witness, Mr. Barn- 
hart, hurried into the court-room. He had started 
for Leavenworth upon the first intimation that his 
presence there was needed, and had reached it just 
in time. He took the stand, swore to his certain 
knowledge that the bills in question had been paid, 
and the jury, without leaving their seats, returned a 
verdict for the defense. 

Then rose cheer upon cheer, as our friends 
crowded about us and offered their congratulations. 
Our home was saved, and Lawyer Dougless had 
won a reputation for eloquence and sterling worth 
that stood undimmed through all his long and pros- 
perous career. 

The next ripple on the current of our lives was 
sister Martha's wedding day.. Possessed of re- 
markable beauty, she had become a belle, and as 
young ladies were scarce in Kansas at that time, she 
was the toast of all our country round. But her 
choice had fallen on a man unworthy of her. Of 
his antecendents we knew nothing; of his present life 
little more, save that he was fair in appearance and 
seemingly prosperous. In the sanction of the union 
Will stood aloof. Joined to a native intuition were 
the sharpened faculties of a lad that lived beyond 
his years. Almost unerring in his insight, he dis- 
liked the object of our sister's choice so thoroughly 
that he refused to be a witness of the nuptials. This 
dislike we attributed to jealousy, as brother and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 45 

sister worshiped each other, but the sequel proved a 
sad corroboration of his views. 

Nature seemed to join her protest to Will's silent 
antagonism. A terrific thunder-storm came up with 
the noon hour of the wedding. So deep and sullen 
were the clouds that we were obliged to light the 
candles. When the wedding pair took their places 
before Hymen's altar, a crash of thunder rocked 
the house and set the casements rattling. 

The couple had their home awaiting them in 
Leavenworth, and departed almost immediately 
after the ceremony. 

The cares and responsibilities laid upon our 
brother's shoulders did not quench his boyish spirits 
and love of fun. Not Buffalo Bill's ! He gave us a 
jack-o'-lantern scare once upon a time, which I don't 
believe any of us will ever forget. We had never 
seen that weird species of pumpkin, and Will em- 
broidered a blood-and-thunder narrative. 

"The pumpkins all rise up out of the ground," 
said he, "on fire, with the devil's eyes, and their 
mouths open, Hke blood-red lions, and grab you, and 
go under the earth. You better look out!" 

"That ain't so!" all of little girls cried; "you 
know It's a fib. Ain't it, mother?" and we ran as 
usual to mother. 

"Will, you musn't tell the children such tales. Of 
course they're just fibs," said mother. 

"So there!" we cried, in triumph. But Will had 
a "so there" answer for us a few nights later. We 
w^ere coming home late one evening, and found the 
gate guarded by mad-looking yellow things, all afire, 
and grinning hideously like real live men in the 
moon dropped down from the sky 



.46 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Jac-o'-lanterns !" screamed Eliza, grabbing May 
by the hand, and starting to run. I began to say 
my prayers, of course, and cry for mother. All at 
once the heads moved! Even Turk's tail shot be- 
tween his legs, and he howled in fright. We saw 
the devil's eyes, the blood-red lion's mouths, and all 
the rest, and set up such a chorus of wild yells that 
the whole household rushed to our rescue. While 
we were panting out our story, we heard Will snick- 
ering behind the door. 

"So there, smarties ! You'll believe what I tell 
you next time. You bet — ter — had!" 

But he liked best to invade our play-room and 
"work magic" on our dolls. Mother had set aside 
one apartment in our large log house for a play- 
room, and here each one of our doll families dwelt 
in peace and harmony, when Will wasn't around. 
But there was tragedy whenever he came near. He 
would scalp the mother dolls, and tie their babies 
to the bedposts, and would storm Into their paste- 
board-box houses at night, after we had fixed them 
all in order, and put the families to standing on 
their heads. He was a dreadful tease. It was In 
this play-room that the germ of his Wild West took 
life. He formed us into a regular little company- 
Turk and the baby, too — and would start us In 
marching order for the woods. He made us stick 
horses and wooden tomahawks, spears, and horse- 
hair strings, so that we could be cowboys, Indians, 
bullwhackers, and cavalrymen. All the scenes of 
his first freighting trip were acted out In the woods 
of Salt Creek Valley. We had stages, robbers, 
"hold-ups," and most ferocious Indian battles. 

Will was always the "principal scalper," however, 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 47 

and we had few of our feathers left after he was on 
the warpath. We were so little we couldn't reach 
his feathers. He always wore two long shiny ones, 
which had been the special pride of our black roost- 
er, and when he threw a piece of an old blanket 
gotten from the Leavenworth barracks around his 
shoulders, we considered him a very fine general in- 
deed. 

All of us were obedient to the letter on "show 
days," and scarcely ever said ''Now, stop," or "I'll 
tell mother on you!" But during one of these ex- 
citing performances Will came to a short stop. 

"I believe I'll run a show when I get to be a 
man," said he. 

"That fortune lady said you'd got to be Presi- 
dent of the United States," said Eliza. 

"How could ze presiman won a show?'* asked 
May. 

"How could that old fortune-teller know what 
I'm going to be?" Will would answer, disdainfully. 
"I rather guess I can have a show, in spite of all 
the fortune-tellers In the country. I'll tell you right 
now, girls, I don't propose to be President, but I 
do mean to have a show I" 

Such temerity In disputing one's distiny was ap- 
palling; and though our Ideas of destiny were rather 
vague, we could grasp one dreadful fact: Will had 
refused to be President of the United States! So 
we ran crying to mother, and burying our faces In 
her lap, sobbed out: "Oh, mother! Will says he 
ain't going to be President. Don't he have to be?" 

Still, in spite of Will's fine scorn of fortune-tel- 
lers, the prophecy concerning his future must have 
been sometimes in his mind. This was shown in an 



48 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

episode that the writer is in duty bound, as a vera- 
cious chronicler, to set down. 

Our neighbor, Mr. Hathaway, had a son, Eu- 
gene, of about Will's age, and the two were fast 
friends. One day, when Will was visiting at Eu- 
gene's house, the boys introduced themselves to a 
barrel of hard cider. Temperance sentiment had 
not progressed far enough to bring hard cider under 
the ban, and Mr. Hathaway had lately pressed out 
a quantity of the old-fashioned beverage. The boys, 
supposing it a harmless drink, took all they desired 
— much more than they could carry. They were In 
a deplorable condition when Mr. Hathaway found 
them; and much distressed, the good old man put 
Eugene to bed and brought Will home. 

The family hero returned to us with a flourish of 
trumpets. He stood up in the wagon and sang and 
shouted; and when Mr. Hathaway reproved him, 
*'Don't talk to me," was his lofty rejoinder. "You 
forget that I am to be President of the United 
States." 

There is compensation for everything. Will 
never touched cider again; and never again could 
he lord it over his still admiring but no longer do- 
cile sisters. If he undertook to boss or tease us 
more than to our fancy, we would subdue him with 
an imitation of his grandiloquent, *'You forget that 
I am to be President of the United States." In- 
deed, so severe was this retaliation that we seldom 
saw him the rest of the day. 

But he got even with us when "preacher day" 
came around. 

Like "Little Breeches' " father. Will never did go 
in much on religion, and when the ministers as- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 49 

sembled for "quarterly meeting" at our house, we 
never knew what to expect from him. Mother was 
a Methodist, and as our log house was larger than 
the others In the valley, It fell to our lot to entertain 
the preachers often. We kept our preparations on 
the quiet when Will was home, but he always man- 
aged to find out what was up, and then trouble be- 
gan. His first move was to *'slck" Turk on the 
yellow-legged chickens. They were our best ones, 
and the only thing we had for the ministers to eat. 
Then Will would come stalking in: 

"Say, mother, just saw all the yellow-legged 
chickens a-scooting up the road. Methodist preach- 
ers must be in the wind, for the old hens are flying 
like sixty!" 

"Now, Will you call Turk off, and round up 
those chickens right away." 

"Catch meself !" And Will would dance around 
and tease so he nearly drove us all distracted. It 
was with the greatest difiiculty that mother could 
finally prevail upon him to round up the chickens. 
That done, he would tie up the pump-handle, milk 
the cows dry, strew the path to the gate with burrs 
and thistles, and stick up a sign, "Thorney is the 
path and stickery the way that leedith unto the 
kingdom of heaven. Amen!" 

Then when mother had put a nice clean valance, 
freshly starched and ruffled, around the big four- 
poster bed in the sitting-room. Will would daub It 
up with smearcase, and just before the preachers 
arrived, sneak In under it, and wait for prayers. 

Mother always desired us to file In quietly, but 
we couldn't pass the bed without our legs being 
pinched; so we "hollored," but were afraid to tell 



50 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

mother the reason before the ministers. We had 
to bear it, but we snickered ourselves when the man 
called *'Elder Green Persimmon," because when he 
prayed his mouth went inside out, came mincing 
into the room, and as he passed the valance and got 
a pinch, jerked out a sour-grape sneeze : 

"Mercy on us! I thought I was bitten by that 
fierce dog of yours, Mrs. Cody; but it must have 
been a burr." 

Then the "experiences" would begin. Will al- 
ways listened quietly, until the folks began telling 
how wicked they had been before they got religion; 
then he would burst in with a vigorous "Amen!" 

The elders did not know Will's voice; so they 
would get warmed up by degree as the amens came 
thicker and faster. When he had worked them all 
up to a red-hot pitch. Will would start that awful 
snort of his that always made us double up with 
giggles, and with a loud cockle-doodle-doo ! would 
bolt from the bed like a lightning flash and make for 
the window. 

So "preacher day," as Will always called It, be- 
came the torment of our lives. 

To tell the truth. Will always was teasing us, but 
if he crooked his finger at us we would bawl. We 
bawled and squalled from morning till night. Yet 
we fairly worshiped him, and cried harder when he 
went away than when he was home. 



CHAPTER VII 

INDIAN ENCOUNTER AND SCHOOL-DAY INCIDENTS 

Will was not long at home. The Mormons, 
who were settled In Utah, rebelled when the govern- 
ment, objecting to the quality of justice meted out 
by Brigham Young, sent a federal judge to the terri- 
tory. Troops, under the command of General Al- 
bert Sidney Johnson, were dispatched to quell the 
insurrection, and Russell, Majors & Waddell con- 
tracted to transport stores and beef cattle to the 
army massing against the Mormons In the fall of 
1857. The train was a large one, better prepared 
against such an attack as routed the McCarthy 
brothers earlier in the summer; yet its fate was the 
same. 

Will was assigned to duty as "extra'* under Lew 
Simpson, an experienced wagon-master, and was 
subject to his orders only. There was the double 
danger of Mormons and Indians, so the pay was 
good. Forty dollars a month in gold looked like 
a large sum to an eleven-year-old. 

Will's second departure was quite as tragic as the 
first. We girls, as before, were loud In our wail- 
ings, and offered to forgive him the depredations In 
the doll-house and all his teaslngs. If only he would 

51 



52 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

not go away and be scalped by the Indians. ' 
Mother said little, but her anxious look, as she re- 
called the perils of the former trip, spoke volumes. 
He carried with him the memory of the open- 
mouthed admiration of little Charlie, to whom 
^'Brother V/ill' was the greatest hero in the world. 
Turk's grief at the parting was not a whit less than 
ours, and the faithful old fellow seemed to realize 
that in Will's absence the duty of the family pro- 
tector devolved on him ; so he made no attempt to 
follow Will beyond the gate. 

The train made good progress, and more than 
half the journey to Fort Bridger was accomplished 
without a setback. When the Rockies were reached, 
a noon halt was made near Green River, and here 
the men were surrounded and overcome by a large 
force of Danltes, the ^'Avenging Angels" of the 
Mormon Church, who had "stolen the livery of the 
court of heaven ta serve the devil in." These were 
responsible for the atrocious Mountain Meadow 
Massacre, in June of this same year, though the 
wily "Saints" had planned to place the odium of an 
unprovoked murder of innocent women and children 
upon the Indians, who had enough to answer for, 
and in this instance were but the tools of the Mor- 
mon Church. Brigham Young repudiated his ac- 
complice, and allowed John D. Lee to become the 
scapegoat. The dying statement of this man is as 
pathetic as Cardinal . Wolsey's arraignment of 
Henry VIII. 

"A victim must be had," said he, "and I am that 
victim. For thirty years I studied to make Brig- 
ham Young's will my law. See now what I have 
come to this day. _ I have been sacrificed in a cow-^ 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 53 

ardly, dastardly manner. I do not fear death. I 
cannot go to a worse place than I am now in." 

John D. Lee deserved his fate, but Brigham 
Young was none the less a coward. 

The Danites spared the lives of the trainmen, but 
they made sad havoc of the supplies. These they 
knew to be intended for the use of the army opposed 
to Brigham Young. They carried off all the stores 
they could handle, drove w^ith them or stampeded 
the cattle, and burned the wagons. The trainmen 
were permitted to retain one wagon and team, with 
just enough supplies to last them to army head- 
quarters. 

It was a disheartened, discomfited band that 
reached Fort Bridger. The information that two 
other trains had been destroyed added to their dis- 
couragement, for that meant that they, in common 
with the other trainmen and the soldiers at the fort, 
must subsist on short rations for the winter. There 
were nearly four hundred of these trainmen, and it 
was so late in the season that they had no choice but 
to remain where they were until spring opened. 

It was an irksomiC winter. The men at the fort 
hauled their firewood two miles; as the provisions 
dwindled, one by one the oxen were slaughtered, 
and when this food supply was exhausted, starva- 
tion reared its gaunt form. Happily the freighters 
got word of the situation, and a relief team reached 
the fort before the spring was fairly opened. 

As soon as practicable the return journey was 
undertaken. At Fort Laramie two large trains 
were put in charge of Lew Simpson, as brigade 
wagon-master, and Will was installed as courier be- 
tween the two caravans, which traveled twenty miles 



54 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

apart — plenty of elbow room for camping and 
foraging. 

One morning, Simpson, George Woods, and Will, 
who were in the rear train, set out for the forward 
one, mounted upon mules, and armed, as the train- 
men always- were, with rifle, knife, and a brace of 
revolvers* About half of the twenty miles had 
been told off when the trio saw a band of Indians 
emerge from a clump of trees half a mile away and 
sweep toward them. Flight with the mules was use- 
less; resistance promised hardly more success, as the 
Indians numbered a full half-hundred; but sur- 
render was death and mutilation. 

"Shoot the mules, boys!" ordered Simpson, and 
five minutes later two men and a boy looked grimly 
over a still palpitating barricade. 

The defense was simple ; rifles at range, revolvers 
for close quarters, knives at the last. The chief, 
easily distinguished by his feathered head-dress, was 
assigned to Will. Already his close shooting was 
the pride of the frontiersmen. Simpson's coolness 
steadied the lad, who realized that the situation was 
desperate. 

The Indians came- on with the rush and scream, 
of the March wind. "Fire!" said Simpson, and 
three ponies galloped riderless as the smake curled 
from three rifle barrels. 

Dismayed by the fall of their chief, the redskins 
wheeled and rode out of range. Will gave a sigh 
of relief. 

"Load up again, Billy!" smiled Simpson. 
"They'll soon be back." 

"They've only three or four rifles," said Woods. 
There had been little lead in the cloud of arrows. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS ss 

"Here they come!" warned Simpson, and the trio 
ran their rifles out over the dead mules. 

Three more riderless ponies; but the Indians kept 
on, supposing they had drawn the total fire of the 
whites. A revolver fusillade undeceived them, and 
the charging column wavered and broke for cover. 

Simpson patted Will on the shoulder as they re- 
loaded. ^'You're a game one, Billy!" said he. 

"You bet he is," echoed Woods, cooly drawing 
an arrow from his shoulder. "How Is that, Lew — 
poisoned?" 

Will waited breathless for the decision, and his 
relief was as great as Wood's when Simpson, after 
a critical scrutiny, answered "No." 

The wound was hastily dressed, and the little 
company gave an undivided attention to the foe, 
who were circling around their quarry, hanging to 
the off sides of their ponies and firing under them. 
With a. touch of the grim humor that plain life 
breeds, Will declared that the mules were veritable 
pincushions, so full of arrows were they stuck. 

The besieged maintained a return fire dropping 
pony after pony, and occasionally a rider. This 
provied expensive sport to the Indians, and the 
whole party finally withdrew from range. 

There was a long breathing spell, which the trio 
improved by strengthening their defense, digging 
up the dirt with their knives and piling It upon the 
mules. It was tedious work, but preferable to in- 
activity and cramped quarters. 

Two hours went by, and the plan of the enemy 
was disclosed. A light breeze arose, and the In- 
dians fired the prairie. Luckily the grass near the 
trail was short, and though the heat was intense and 



S6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the smoke stifling, the barricade held off the flame. 
Simpson had kept a close Avatch, and presently gave 
the order to fire. A volley went through the smoke 
and blaze, and the yell that followed proved that it 
was not wasted. This last ruse failing, the Indians 
settled down to their favorite game — waiting. 

A thin line of them circled out of range; ponies 
were picketed and tents pitched; night fell, and the 
stars shot out. 

As Woods was wounded, he was excused from 
guard duty. Will and Simpson keeping watch in 
turn. Will took the first vigil, and, tired though he 
y/as, experienced no difficulty in keeping awake, but 
he went soundly to sleep the moment he was re- 
lieved. He was awakened by a dream that Turk 
was barking to him, and vaguely alarmed, he sat up 
to find Simpson sleeping across his rifle. 

The midnight hush was unbroken, and the dark- 
ness lay thick upon the plain, but shapes blacker 
than night hovered near, and Will laid his hand on 
Simpson's shoulder. 

The latter was instantly alive, and Woods was 
awakened. A faint click went away on the night 
bfeeze, and a moment later three jets of flame 
carried warning to the up-creeping foe that the 
whites were both alive and on the alert. 

There was no more sleep within the barricade. 
The dawn grew into day, and anxious eyes scanned 
the trail for reinforcements — coming surely, but on 
what heavy and slow-turning wheels ! 

Noon came and passed. The anxious eyes ques- 
tioned one another. Had the rear train been over- 
come by a larger band of savages? But suddenly 
half a dozen of the Indians v/ere seen to spring up 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 57 

with gestures of excitement, and spread the alarm 
around the circle. 

"They hear the cracking of the bull-whips," said 
Simpson. 

The Indians v/ho had seen the first team pass, and 
had assumed that Simpson and his companions were 
straggling members of It, did not expect another 
train so soon. There was ^'mounting In hot haste,** 
and the Indians rode away In one bunch for the 
distant foothills, just as the first ox-team broke Into 
view. 

And never was there fairer picture to more ap- 
preciative eyes than those same lumbering, clumsy 
animals, and never sweeter music than the harsh 
staccato of the bull-whips. 

When hunger was appeased, and Wood's wound 
properly dressed. Will, for the second time, found 
himself a hero among the plainsmen. His nerve 
and coolness were dwelt upon by Simpson, and to 
the dream that waked him In season v/as ascribed 
the continued life on earth of the little company. 
Will, however, was disposed to allow Turk the full 
credit for the service. 

The remainder of the trip was devoid of special 
incident, and as Will neared home he hurried on in 
advance of the train. His heart beat high as he 
thought of the dear faces awaiting him, unconscious 
that he was so near. 

But the home toward which he was hastening 
with beating heart and winged heels was shadowed 
by a great grief. Sister Martha's married life, 
though brief, had amply justified her brother's esti- 
mate of the man into whose hands she had given 
her life. She was taken suddenly ill, and it was not 



58 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

until several months later that Will learned that the 
cause of her sickness was the knowledge that had 
come to her of the faithless nature of her husband. 
The revelation was made through the visit of one 

of Mr. C 's creditors, who, angered at a refusal 

to liquidate a debt, accused Mr. C of being a 

bigamist, and threatened to set the law upon him. 
The blow v/as fatal to one of Martha's pure and 
affectionate nature, already crushed by neglect and 
cruelty. All that night she was delirious, and her 
one thought was "Willie,'* and the danger he was in 
— not alone the physical danger, but the moral and 
spiritual peril that she feared lay in association with 
rough and reckless men. She moaned and tossed, 
and uttered incoherent cries; but as the morning 
broke the storm went down, and the anxious watch- 
ers fancied that she slept. Suddenly she sat up, the 
light of reason again shining in her eyes, and with 
a joyous cry, "Tell mother Willie's saved! Willie's 
saved!" she fell back on her pillow, and her spirit 
passed away. On her face was the peace that the 
world can neither give nor take away. The veil of 
the Unknown had been drawn aside for a peace. 
She had "sent her soul through the Invisible," and 
it had found the light that lit the last weary steps 
through the Valley of the Shadow. 

Mr. C— — had moved from Leavenworth to 
Johnson County, twenty-five miles away, and as 
there were neither telegraph nor mail facilities, he 
had the body sent home, himself accompanying it. 
Thus our first knowledge of Martha's sickness came 
when her lifeless clay was borne across our thres- 
hold, the threshold that, less than a year before, she 
had crossed a bright and bonny bride. Dazed by 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 59 

the shock, we longed for Will's return before we 
must lay his idolized sister forever in her narrow 
cell. 

All of the family, Mr. C included, were 

gathered in the sitting-room, sad and silent, when 
Turk suddenly raised his head, listened a second, 
and bounded out of doors. 

"Will is coming!" cried mother, and we all ran 
to the door. Turk was racing up the long hill, at 
the top of which was a moving speck that the dog 
knew to be his master. His keen ears had caught 
the familiar whistle half a mile away. 

When Turk had manifested his joy at the meet- 
ing, he prepared Will for the bereavement that 
awaited him; he put his head down and emitted a 
long and repeated wail. Will's first thought was for 
mother, and he fairly ran down the hill. The girls 
met him some distance from the house, and sobbed 
out the sad news. 

And when he had listened, the lad that had pas- 
sed unflinchingly through two Indian fights, broke 
down, and sobbed with the rest of us. 

"Did that rascal, C , have anything to do 

with her death?" he asked, when the first passion of 
grief was over. 

Julia, who knew no better at the time, replied 

that Mr. C was the kindest of husbands, and 

was crushed with sorrow at his loss; but spite of the 
assurance. Will, when he reached the house, had 
neither look nor word for him. He just put his 
arms about mother's neck, and mingled his grief 
with her words of sympathy and love. 

Martha was shortly after laid by father's side, 
and as we stood weeping in that awful moment 



6o LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

when the last spadeful of earth completes the sepul- 
ture, Will, no longer master of himself, stepped up 
before Mr. C : 

"Murderer," he said, "one day you shall answer 
to me for the death of her who lies there!" 

When Will next presented himself at Mr. Ma- 
jors's office, he was told that his services had been 
wholly satisfactory, and that he could have work at 
any time he desired. This was gratifying, but a 
sweeter pleasure was to lay his winter's wages In 
mother's lap. Through his help, and her business 
ability, our pecuniary affairs were in good condition. 
We were comfortably situated, and as Salt Creek 
Valley now boasted of a schoolhouse, mother 
wished Will to enter school. He was so young 
when he came West that his school-days had been 
few; nor was the prospect of adding to their num- 
ber alluring. After the excitement of life on the 
plains, going to school was dull work; but Will 
realized that there was a world beyond the prairie's 
horizon, and he entered school, determined to do 
honest work. 

Our first teacher was of the good, old-fashioned 
sort. He taught because he had to live. He had 
no love for his work, and knew nothing of children. 
The one motto he lived up to was, "Spare the rod 
and spoil the child." As Will was a regular Tartar 
In the schoolroom, he, more than all the other schol- 
ars, made him put his smarting theory into practice. 
Almost every afternoon was attended with the dra- 
matic attempt to switch Will. The schoolroom was 
separated Into two grand divisions, "the boys on 
teacher's side," and those "on the Cody side." The 
teacher would send his pets out to get switches, and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 6i 

part of our division — we girls, of course — would 
begin to weep; while those who had spunk would 
spit on their hands, clench their fists, and "dare 'em 
to bring them switches in!" Those were hot times 
in old Salt Creek Valley!" 

One morning Turk, too, was seized with educa- 
tional ambition, and accompanied Will to school. 
,We tried to drive him home, but he followed at a 
distance, and as we entered the schoolhouse, he 
emerged from the shrubbery by the roadside and 
crept under the building. 

Alas for the scholars, and alas for the school ! 
Another ambitious dog reposed beneath the temple 
of learning. 

Will, about that time, was having a bad quarter 
of an hour. An examination Into his knowledge, or 
lack of it, was under way, and he was hard pressed. 
Had he been asked how to strike a trail, locate 
water, or pitch a tent, his replies would have been 
full and acurate, but the teacher's queries seemed 
as foohsh as the "Reeling and Writhing, Ambition, 
Distraction, Ugllfication, and Derision" of the 
Mock Turtle in "Alice in Wonderland." 

Turk effected an unexpected rescue. Snarls were 
heard beneath the schoolhouse; then savage growls 
and yelps, while the floor resounded with the 
whacks of the canine combatants. With a whoop 
that would not have disgraced an Indian, Will was 
out of doors, shouting, "Eat him up, Turk! Eat 
him up!" 

The owner of the opposing dog was one Steve 
Gobel. 'Twixt him and Will a good-sized feud ex- 
isted. Steve was also on the scene, with a defiant. 



62 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

*^'SIc 'em, Nigger!" and the rest of the school fol- 
lowed in his wake. 

Of the twisting, yelping bundle of dog-flesh that 
rolled from under the schoolhouse it was difficult to 
say which was Turk and which Nigger. Eliza and 
I called to Turk, and wept because he would not 
hear. The teacher ordered the children back to 
their studies, but they were as deaf as Turk; where- 
at the enraged pedagogue hopped wildly about, 
flourishing a stick and whacking every boy that 
stayed within reach of it. 

Nigger soon had enough of the fight, and strik- 
ing his tail-colors fled yelping from the battle- 
ground. His master, Steve Gobel, a large youth of 
nineteen or twenty years, pulled off his coat to 
avenge upon Will the dog's defeat, but the teacher 
effected a Solomon-like compromise by whipping 
both boys for bringing their dogs to school, after 
which the interrupted session was resumed. 

But Gobel nursed his wrath, and displayed his 
enmity in a thousand small ways. Will paid no at- 
tention to him, but buckled down to his school work. 
Will was a born "lady's man," and when Miss 
Mary Hyatt complicated the feud 'twixt him and 
Steve, it hurried to its climax. Mary was older than 
Will, but she plainly showed her preference for him 
over Master Gobel. Steve had never distinguished 
himself in an Indian fight; he was not a hero, but 
just a plain boy. 

Now, indeed, was Will's life unendurable; "pati- 
ence had had its perfect work." He knew that a 
boy of twelve, however strong and sinewy, was not 
a match for an almost full-grown man; so, to bal- 
ance matters, he secreted on his person an old 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 63 

bowie-knife. When next he met Steve, the latter 
dimaxed his bullying tactics by striking the object 
of his resentment; but he was unprepared for the 
sudden leap that bore him backward to the earth. 
Size and strength told swiftly in the struggle that 
succeeded, but Will, with a dextrous thrust, put the 
point of the bowie into the fleshy part of Steve's 
lower leg, a spot where he knew the cut would not 
be serious. 

The stricken bully shrieked that he was killed; 
the children gathered round, and screamed loudly at 
the sight of blood. "Will Cody has killed Steve 
Gobel!'* was the wailing cry, and Will, though he 
knew Steve was but pinked, began to realize that 
frontier styles of combat were not esteemed in com- 
munities given up to the soberer pursuits of spelling, 
arithmetic, and history. Steve, he knew, was more 
frightened than hurt; but the picture of the pros- 
trate, ensanguined youth, and the group of awe- 
stricken children, bore in upon his mind the truth 
that his act was an Infraction of the civil code; that 
even in self-defense, he had no right to use a knife 
unless his life was threatened. 

The irate pedagogue was hastening to the scene, 
and after one glance at him. Will, incontinently fled. 
At the road he came upon a wagon train, and with 
a shout of joy recognized in the "boss" John Willis, 
a wagon-master employed by Russell, Majors & 
Waddell, and a great friend of the "boy extra." 
Will climbed up behind Willis on his horse, and re- 
lated his escapade to a close and sympathetic list- 
ener. 

"If you say so, Billy," was his comment, "I'll go 



6a last of the great scouts 

over and lick the whole outfit, and stampede tht 
school." 

''No, let the school alone," replied Will; "but 1 
guess I'll graduate, if you'll let me go along with 
you this- trip." 

Willis readily agreed, but insisted upon returning 
to the schoolhouse. "I'm not going," said he, "tc 
let you be beaten by a bully of a boy, and a Yankee 
school-teacher, with a little learning, but not a bit 
of sand." His idea of equalizing forces was that 
he and "Little Billy" should fight against the peda- 
gogue and Steve. 

Will consented, and they rode back to the school- 
house, on the door of which Willis pounded with 
his revolver butt, and when the door was opened 
he invited Gobel and the "grammar man" to come 
forth and do battle. But Steve had gone home, and 
the teacher, on seeing the two gladiators, fled, while 
the scholars, dismissing themselves, ran home in a 
fright. 

That night mother received a note from the 
teacher. 

He was not hired, he wrote, to teach desper- 
adoes; therefore Will was dismissed. But Will had 
already dismissed himself, and had rejoined the 
larger school whose walls are the blue bowl called 
the sky. And long after was his name used by the 
pedagogue to conjure up obedience in his pupils; un- 
less they kissed the rod, they, too, might go to the 
bad, and follow In Will Cody's erring footsteps. 

Willis and Will had gone but a piece on the road 
when horsemen were seen approaching. 

"Mr. Gobel and the officers are after me," said 
Will. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 65 

*'BeIng after you and gittin' you are two different 
things," said the wagon-master. *'Lie low, and I'll 
settle the men." 

Mr. Gobel and his party rode up with the infor- 
mation that they had come to arrest Will; but they 
got no satisfaction from Willis. He would not 
allow them to search the wagons, and they finally 
rode away. That night, when the camp was 
pitched, the wagon-master gave Will a mule, and 
accompanied him home. We were rejoiced to see 
him, especially mother, who was much concerned 
over his escapade. 

"Oh, Will, how could you do such a thing?" she 
said, sorrowfully. "It Is a dreadful act to use a 
knife on any one." 

Will disavowed any homicidal intentions; but his 
explanations made little headway against mother's 
disapproval and her disappointment over the inter- 
ruption of his school career. As it seemed the best 
thing to do, she consented to his going v/Ith the 
wagon train under the care of John Willis, and the 
remainder of the night was passed In preparations 
for the journey. 



CHAPTER VIII 

DEATH AND BURIAL OF TURK 

This trip of Will's covered only two months, and 
was succeeded by another expedition, to the new 
post at Fort Wallace, at Cheyenne Pass. 

Meanwhile mother had decided to Improve the 
opportunity afforded by her geographical position, 
and uader her supervision "The Valley Grove 
House was going up. 

The hotel commanded a magnificent prospect. 
Below lay the beautiful Salt Creek Valley. It de- 
rived Its name from the saline properties of the 
little stream that rushed along its pebbly bed to 
empty its clear waters into the muddy Missouri. 
From the vantage-ground of our location Salt Creek 
looked like a silver thread, winding its way through 
the rich verdure of the valley. The region was 
dotted with fertile farms; from east to west ran the 
government road, known as the Old Salt Lake 
Trail, and back of us was. Cody Hill, named for my 
father. Our house stood on the side hill, just above 
the military road, and between us and the hilltop 
lay the grove that gave the hotel Its name. Gov- 
ernment hill, which broke the eastern sky-line, hid 
Leavenworth and the Missouri River, culminating 

66 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 67 

to the south in Pilot Knob, the eminence on which 
my father was buried, also beyond our view. 

Mother's business sagacity was justified in the 
hotel venture. The trail began its half-mile ascent 
of Cody Hill just below our house, and at this point 
the expedient known as ''doubling" was employed. 
Two teams hauled a wagon up the steep incline, the 
double team returning for the wagon left behind. 
Thus the progress of a wagon train, always slow^ 
became a very snail's pace, and the hotel was in- 
sured a full quota of hungry trainmen. 

Will found that his wages were of considerable 
aid to mother in the large expense incurred by the 
building of the hotel; and the winter drawing on, 
forbidding further freighting trips, he planned an 
expedition with a party of trappers. More money 
was to be made at this business during the winter 
than at any other time. 

The trip was successful, and contained only one 
adventure spiced with danger, which, as was so 
often the case. Will twisted to his own advantage 
by coolness and presence of mind. 

One morning, as he was making the round of his 
traps, three Indians appeared on the trail, each lead- 
ing a pony laden with pelts. One had a gun; the 
others carried bows and arrows. The odds were 
three to one, and the brave with the gun was the 
most to be feared. 

This Indian dropped his bridle-rein and threw 
up his rifle; but before it was at his shoulder Will 
had fired, and he fell forward on his face. His com- 
panions bent their bows, one arrow passing through 
Will's hat and another piercing his arm — the first 



68 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

wound he ever received. Will swung his cap about 
his head. 

"This way! Here they are!" he shouted to an 
imaginary party of friends at his back. Then with 
his revolver he wounded another of the Indians, 
who, believing reinforcements were at hand, left 
their ponies and fled. 

Will took the ponies on the double-quick back to 
camp, and the trappers decided to pull up stakes at 
once. It had been a profitable season, and the few 
more pelts to be had were not worth the risk of an 
attack by avenging Indians; so they packed their 
outfit, and proceeded to Fort Laramie. Will rea- 
lized a handsome sum from the sale of his cap- 
tured furs, besides those of the animals he had him- 
self trapped. 

At the fort were two men bound east, and im- 
patient to set out, and Will, in his haste to reach 
home, joined forces with them. Rather than wait 
for an uncertain wagon train, they decided to chance 
the dangers of the road. They bought three ponies 
and a pack-mule for the camp outfit, and sallied 
forth in high spirits. 

Although the youngest of the party. Will was the 
most experienced plainsman, and was constantly on 
the alert. They reached the Little Blue River with- 
out sign of Indians, but across the stream Will 
espied a band of them. The redslcins were as keen 
of eye, and straightway exchanged the pleasures of 
the chase for the more exciting pursuit of human 
game. But they had the river to cross, and this 
gave the white men a good start. The pursuit was 
hot, and grew hotter, but the kindly darkness fell, 
and under cover of It the trio got safely away. That 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 69 

night they camped in a little ravine that afforded 
shelter from both Indians and weather. 

A look over the ravine disclosed a cave that 
promised a snug harbor, and therein Will and one 
of his companions spread their blankets and fell 
asleep. The third man, whose duty it was to pre- 
pare the supper, kindled a fire just inside the cave, 
and returned outside for a supply of fuel. When 
he again entered the cave the whole interior was re- 
vealed by the bright firelight, and after one look he 
gave a yell of terror, dropped his firewood, and fled. 

Will and the other chap were on their knees in- 
stantly, groping for their rifles, in the belief that the 
Indians v/ere upon them; but the sight that met their 
eyes was more terror-breeding than a thousand In- 
dians. A dozen bleached and ghastly skeletons 
were gathered with them around the camp-fire, and 
seemed to nod and sway, and thrust their long- 
chilled bones toward the cherry blaze. 

Ghastly as it was within the cave. Will found it 
more unpleasant in the open. The night was cold, 
and a storm threatened. 

"Well, said he to his companions, "we know the 
worst that's in there now. Those old dead bones 
won't hurt us. Let's go back." 

"Not if I know myself, sonny," returned one of 
the men decidedly, and the other heartily agreed 
with him, swearing that as it was, he should not be 
able to close his eyes for a week. So, after a hur- 
ried lunch upon the cold provisions, the party 
mounted their ponies and pushed on. The promised 
snowstorm materialized, and shortly became a 
young blizzard, and obliged to dismount and camp 



70 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

in the open prairie, they made a miserable night 
of it. 

But it had an end, as all things have, and with 
the morning they resumed the trail, reaching Marys- 
ville, on the Big Blue, after many trials and pri- 
vations. 

From here the trail was easier, as the country 
was pretty well settled, and Will reached home 
without further adventure or misadventure. Here 
there was compensation for hardship in the joy of 
handing over to mother all his money, realizing that 
it would lighten her burdens — burdens borne that 
she might leave her children provided for when she 
could no longer repel the dread messenger, that in 
all those years seemed to hover so near that even 
our childish hearts felt its presence ere it actually 
crossed the threshold. 

It was early in March when Will returned from 
his trapping expedition. Mother's business was 
flourishing, though she herself grew frailer with the 
passing of each day. The summer that came on 
was a sad one for us all, for It marked Turk's last 
days on earth. One evening he was lying in the 
yard, when a strange dog came up the road, 
bounded in, gave Turk a vicious bite, and went on. 
We dressed the wound, and thought little of it, until 
some horsemen rode up, with the inquiry, "Have 
you seen a dog pass here?" 

We answered indignantly that a strange dag had 
passed, and had bitten our dog. 

"Better look out for him, then," warned the men 
as they rode away. "The dog Is mad." 

Consternation seized us. It was dreadful to think 
of Turk going mad — he who had been our play- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 71 

mate from infancy, and who, through childhood's 
years, had grown more dear to us than many human 
beings could; but mother knew the matter was seri- 
ous, and Issued her commands. Turk must be shut 
up, and we must not even visit him for a certain 
space. And so we shut him up, hoping for the best; 
but It speedily became plain that the poison was 
working in his veins, and that the greatest kindness 
we could do him was to kill him. 

That was a frightful alternative. Will utterly re- 
fused to shoot him, and the execution was delegated 
to the hird man. Will stipulating that none of his 
weapons should be used, and that he be allowed to 
get out of ear-shot. 

Late that afternoon, just before sunset, we as- 
sembled In melancholy silence for the funeral. A 
grave had been dug on the highest point of the 
eastern extremity of Cody Hill, and decorated in 
black ribbons, we slowly filed up the steep path, 
carrying Turk's body on a pine board softened with 
moss. Will led the procession with his hat in his 
hand, and every now and then his fist w^ent savagely 
at his eyes. When we reached the grave, we 
formed around It In a tearful circle, and Will, who 
always called me "the little preacher," told me to 
say the Lord's Prayer. The sun was setting, and 
the brilliant western clouds were shining round 
below us, and the sounds in the valley were mufPied 
and Indistinct. 

"Our Father y/hlch art in heaven," I whispered 
softly, as all the children bent their heads, "Hal- 
lov/ed be Thy nam^e. Thy kingdom come, Thy will 
be done in earth as It Is In heaven." I paused, and 
the other children said the rest In chorus. The 



72 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

next day Will procured a large block of red blood- 
stone, which abounds In that country, squared it off, 
carved the name of Turk upon it In large letters, 
and we placed It at the h^ad of the grave. 

To us there had been no incongruity in the 
funeral ceremonials and burial. Turk had given us 
all that dog could give; we, for our part, gave him 
Christian sepulture. Our sorrow was sincere. We 
had lost an honest, loyal friend. For many suc- 
ceeding days his grave was garlanded with fresh 
flowers, placed there by loving hands. Vale Turk! 
Would that our friends of the higher evolution 
were all as stanch as thou ! 

THE BURIAL OF TURK. 

Only a dog! but the tears fall fast 

As we lay him to rest underneath the green sod, 

Where bountiful nature, the sweet summer through, 
Will deck him with daisies and bright goldenrod. 

The loving thought of a boyish heart 

Marks the old dog's grave with a bloodstone red; 

The name, carved in letters rough and rude, 

Keeps his memory green, though his life be sped. 

For the daring young hero of wood and plain, 
Like all who are generous, strong and brave, 

Has a heart that is loyal and kind and true, 
And shames not to weep o'er his old friend's grave. 

Only a dog, do you say? but I deem 

A dog who with faithfulness fills his trust, 

More worthy than many a man to be given 
A tribute of love, when but ashes and dust. 

An unusually good teacher now presided at the 
schoolhouse in our neighborhood, and Will was 
again persuaded into educational paths. He put in 
a hard winter's work; but with the coming of 
spring and its unrest, the swelling of buds and the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 73 

springing of grass, the return of the birds and the 
twittering from myriad nests, the Spirits of the 
Plains beckoned to him, and he joined a party of 
gold-hunters on the long trail to Pike's Peak. 

The gold excitement was at its apogee in i860. 
By our house had passed the historic wagon bearing 
on its side the classic motto, ^'Pike's Peak or Bust!" 
Afterward, stranded by the wayside, a whole history 
of failure and disappointment, borne with grim hu- 
mor, was told by the addition of the eloquent word, 
^'Busted!" 

For all his adventures. Will was only fourteen,' 
and although tall for his age, he had not the phy- 
sical strength that might have been expected from 
his hardy life. It was not strange that he should 
take the gold fever; less so that mother should 
dread to see him again leave home to face unknown 
perils; and it is not at all remarkable that upon 
reaching Auraria, now Denver, he should find that 
fortunes were not lying around much more promis- 
cuously in a gold country than, in any other. 

Recent events have confirmed a belief that under 
the excitement of a gold craze men exercise less 
judgment than at any other time. Except in placer 
mining, which almost any one can learn, gold min- 
ing is a science. Now and again a nugget worth a 
fortune is picked up, but the average mortal can get 
a better livelihood, with half the work, in almost 
any other field of effort. To become rich a knowl- 
edge of ores and mining methods Is indispensable. 

But Will never reached the gold-fields. Almost 
the first person he met on the streets of Julesberg 
was George Chrisman, who had been chief wagon- 
master for Russell, Majors & Waddell. Will had 



74 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

become well acquainted with Chrisman on the vari- 
ous expeditions he had made for the firm. 

This man was located at Julesberg as agent for 
the Pony Express line, which was- in process of for- 
mation. This line was an enterprise of Russell, 
Majors & Waddell. Mr. Russell met in Washing- 
ton the Senator from California. This gentleman 
knew that the Western firm of contractors was run- 
ning a daily stagecoach from the Missouri River to 
Sacramento, and he urged upon Mr. Russell the 
desirability of operating a pony express line along 
the same route. There was already a line known 
as the "Butterfield Route," but this was circuitous, 
the fastest time ever made on it was twenty-one 
days. 

Mr. Russell laid the matter before his partners. 
They were opposed to it, as they were sure it 
would be a losing venture; but the senior member 
urged the matter so strongly that they consented to 
try it, for the good of the country, with no expecta- 
tion of profit. They utilized the stagecoach stations 
already established, and only about two months 
were required to put the Pony Express line in run- 
ning order. 

Riders received from a hundred and twenty to a 
hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, but they 
earned it. In order to stand the life great physical 
strength and endurance were necessary; in addition, 
riders must be cool, brave, and resourceful. Their 
lives were in constant peril, and they were obliged 
to do double duty in case the comrade that was to 
relieve them had been disabled by outlaws or In- 
dians. 

Two hundred and fifty miles was the daily dist- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 75 

ance that must be made ; this constituted an average 
of a little over ten miles an hour. In the exceed- 
ingly rough country this average could not be kept 
up; to balance It, there were a few places In the 
route where the rider was expected to cover twenty- 
five miles an hour. 

In making such a run, it Is hardly necessary to say 
that no extra weight was carried. Letters were 
written on the finest tissue paper; the charge was at 
the rate of five dollars for half an ounce. A hun- 
dred of these letters would make a bulk not much 
larger than an ordinary writing-tablet. 

The mail-pouches were never to carry more than 
twenty pounds. They were leather bags. Impervi- 
ous to moisture ; the letters, as a further protection, 
were wrapped In oiled silk. The pouches were 
locked, sealed, and strapped to the rider's side. 
They vv^ere not unlocked during the journey from 
St. Joseph to Sacramento. 

The first trip was made In ten days; this was a 
saving of eleven days over the best time ever made 
by the "Butterfield Route." Sometimes the time 
was shortened to eight days; but an average trip 
was made In nine. The distance covered In this 
time was nineteen hundred and sixty-six miles. 

President Buchanan's last presidential message 
was carried In December, i860, In a few hours over 
eight days. President Lincoln's Inaugural, the fol- 
lowing March, was transmitted In seven days and 
seventeen hours. This was the quickest trip ever 
made. 

The Pony Express line made Its worth at once 
felt. It would have become a financial success but 
that a telegraph line was put into operation over 



76 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the same stretch of territory, under the direction of 
Mr. Edward Crelghton. The first message was 
sent over the wires the 24th of October, 1861. The 
Pony Express line had outhved its usefulness, and 
was at once discontinued. But it had accomplished 
its main purpose, which was to determine whether 
the route by which it went could be made a per- 
manent track for travel the year through. The cars 
of the Union Pacific road now travel nearly the 
same old trails as those followed by the daring 
riders of frontier days. 

Mr. Chrisman gave Will a cordial greeting. He 
explained the business of the express line to his 
young friend, and stated that the company had 
had nearly perfected its arrangements. It was now 
buying ponies and putting them into good condition, 
preparatory to beginning operations. He added, 
jokingly: 

"It's a pity youVe not a few years older, Billy. 
I would give you a job as Pony Express rider. 
There's good pay in it." 

Will was at once greatly taken with the idea, and 
begged so hard to be given a trial that Mr. Chris- 
man consented to give him work for a month. If 
the life proved too hard for him, he was to be laid 
off at the end of that time. He had a short run of 
forty-five miles; there were three relay stations, and 
he was expected to make fifteen miles an hour. 

The 3rd of April, i860, Mr. Russell stood ready 
to receive the mail from a fast New York train at 
St. Joseph. He adjusted the letter-pouch on the 
pony in the presence of an excited crowd. Besides 
the letters, several large New York papers printed 
special editions on tissue paper for this Inaugural 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 77 

trip. The crowd plucked hairs from the tail of the 
first animal to start on the novel journey, and pre- 
served these hairs as talismans. The rider mounted, 
the moment for starting came, the signal was given, 
and off he dashed. 

At the same moment Sacramento witnessed a 
similar scene ; the rider of that region started on the 
two thousand mile ride eastward as the other started 
westward. All the way along the road the several 
riders were ready for their initial gallop. 

Will looked forward eagerly to the day when the 
express line should be set in motion, and when the 
hour came it found him ready, standing beside his 
horse, and waiting for the rider whom he was to 
relieve. There was a clatter of hoofs, and a horse- 
man dashed up and flung him the saddle-bags. Will 
threw them upon the waiting pony, vaulted into the 
saddle, and was off like the wind. 

The first relay station was reached on time, and 
Will changed with hardly a second's loss of time, 
while the panting, reeking animal he had ridden was 
left to the care of the stock-tender. This was re- 
peated at the end of the second fifteen miles, and the 
last station was reached a few minutes ahead of 
time. The return trip was made in good order, and 
then Will wrote to us of his new position, and told 
us that he was in love with the life. 



CHAPTER IX 

WILL AS PONY EXPRESS RIDER 

After being pounded against a saddle three 
dashes daily for three months, to the tune of fifteen 
miles an hour, Will began to feel a little loose in his 
joints, and weary withal, but he was determined to 
"stick it out." Besides the daily pounding, the 
track of the Pony Express rider was strewn with 
perils. A wayfarer through that wild land was 
more likely to run across outlaws and Indians than 
to pass unmolested, and as it was known that pack- 
ages of value were frequently dispatched by the 
Pony Express line, the route was punctuated by 
ambuscades. 

Will had an eye out every trip for a hold-up, but 
three months went by before he added that novelty 
to his other experiences. One day, as he flew 
around a bend in a narrow pass, he confronted a 
huge revolver in the grasp of a man who manifestly 
meant business, and whose salutation was: 

''Halt! Throw up your hands!" 

Most people do, and Will's hands were raised 
reluctantly. The highwayman advanced, saying, 
not unkindly : 

"I don't want to hurt you, boy, but I do v/ant 
them bags." 

78 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 79 

Money packages v/ere in the saddlebags, and 
Will was minded to save them if he could, so, as the 
outlaw reached for the booty. Will touched the pony 
with his foot, and the upshot was satisfactory to an 
unexpected degree. The plunge upset the robber, 
and as the pony swept over him he got a vicious 
blow from one hoof. Will wheeled for a revolver 
duel, but the foe was prostrate, stunned, and bleed- 
ing at the head. Will disarmed the fellow, and 
pinioned his arms behind him, and then tied up his 
broken head. Will surmised that the prisoner must 
have a horse hidden hard by, and a bit of a search 
disclosed it. When he returned with the animal, its 
owner had opened his eyes and was beginning to re- 
member a few things. Will helped him to mount, 
and out of pure kindness tied him on; then he 
straddled his own pony, and tov/ed the dismal outfit 
along with him. 

It was the first time that he had been behind on 
his run, but by way of excuse he offered to Mr. 
Chrisman a broken-headed and dejected gentleman 
tied to a horse's back; and Chrisman, with a grin, 
locked the excuse up for future reference. 

A few days after this episode Will received a let- 
let from Julia, telling him that mother was ill, and 
asking him to come home. He at once sought out 
Mr. Chrisman, and giving his reason, asked to be 
relieved. 

'Tm sorry your mother's sick," was the answer, 
*'but I'm glad something has occurred to make you 
quit this life. It''s wearing you out, Billy, and you're 
too gritty to give it up without a good reason." 

Will reached home to find mother slightly im- 
proved. For three wrecks was he content to remain 



8o LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

Idly at home; then (It was November of i860) his 
unquiet spirit bore him away on another trapping 
expedition, this time with a young friend named 
David Phillips. 

They bought an ox-team and wagon to transport 
the traps, camp outfit, and provisions, and took 
along a large supply of ammunition, besides extra 
rifles. Their destination was the Republican River. 
It coursed more than a hundred miles from Leaven- 
worth, but the country about it was reputed rich In 
beaver. Will acted as scout on the journey, going 
ahead to pick out trails, locate camping grounds, 
and look out for breakers. The information con- 
cerning the beaver proved correct; the game was In- 
deed so plentiful that they concluded to pitch a 
permanent camp and see the winter out. 

They chose a hollow in a sidehlll, and enlarged 
it to the dimenslans of a decent-sized room. A floor 
of logs was put in, and a chimney fashioned of 
stones, the open lower part doing double duty as 
cook-stove and heater; the bed was spread In the 
rear, and the wagon sheltered the entrance. A cor- 
ral of poles was built for the oxen, and one corner 
of it protected by boughs. Altogether, they ac- 
counted their winter quarters thoroughly satisfac- 
tory and agreeable. 

The boys had seen no Indians on their trip out, 
and were not concerned in that quarter, though they 
were too good plainsmen to relax their vigilance. 
There were other foes, as they discovered the first 
night in their new quarters. They were aroused by 
a commotion in the corral where the oxen were con- 
fined, and hurrying out with their rifles, they found 
a huge bear Intent upon a feast of beef. The oxen 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 8i 

were bellowing in terror, one of them dashing 
crazily about the inclosure, and the other so badly- 
hurt that it could not get up. 

Phillips, who was In the lead, fired first, but suc- 
ceeded only in wounding the bear. Pain was now 
added to the savagery of hunger, and the Infuriated 
monster rushed upon Plhlllps. Dave leaped back, 
but his foot slipped on a bit of Ice, and he went 
down with a thud, his rifle flying from his hand as 
he struck. 

But there was a cool young head and a steady 
hand behind him. A ball from Will's rifle entered 
the distended mouth of the onrushing bear and 
pierced the brain, and the huge mass fell lifeless 
almost across Dave's body. 

Phillips nerves loosened with a snap, and he 
laughed for very relief as he seized Will's hands. 

"That's the time you saved my life, old fellow!" 
said he. "Perhaps I can do as much for you some- 
time." 

"That's the first bear I ever killed," said Will, 
more Interested in that topic than in the one Dave 
held forth on. 

One of the oxen was found to be mortally hurt, 
and a bullet ended its misery. Will then took his 
first lesson in the gentle art of skinning a bear. 

Dave's chance to square his account with Will 
came a fortnight later. They were chasing a bunch 
of elk, when Will fell, and discovered that he could 
not rise. 

"I'm afraid Pve broken my leg," said he, as 
Dave ran to him. 

Phillips had once been a medical student, and he 



82 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

examined the leg with a professional eye. You're 
right, Billy; the leg's broken," he reported. 

Then he went to work to improvise splints and 
bind up the leg; and this done, he took Will on his 
back and bore him to the dugout. Here the leg 
was stripped, and set in carefully prepared splints, 
and the whole bound up securely. 

The outlook was unpleasant, cheerfully as one 
might regard it. Living in the scoop of a sidehill 
when one is strong and able to get about and keep 
the blood coursing is one thing; living there pent 
up through a tedious winter is quite another. Dave 
meditated as he worked away at the pair of 
crutches. 

"Tell you what I think I'd better do," said he. 
**The nearest settlement is- some hundred miles 
miles away, and I can get there and back in twenty 
days. Suppose I make the trip, get a team for our 
wagon, and come back for you?" 

The Idea of being left alone and well-nigh help- 
less struck dismay to- Will's heart, but there was no 
help for it, and he assented. Dave put matters into 
shipshape, piled wood in the dugout, cooked a quan- 
tity of food and put it where Will could reach it 
without rising, and fetched several days' supply of 
water. Mother, ever mindful of Will's- education, 
had put some school-books in the wagon, and Dave 
placed these beside the food and water. When 
Phillips finally set out, driving the surviving ox 
before him, he left behind a very lonely and home- 
sick boy. 

During the first day of his confinement Will felt 
too desolate to eat, much less to read; but as he 
grew accustomed to solitude he derived real pleas- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 83 

ure from the companionship of books. Perhaps in 
all his life he never extracted so much benefit from 
study as during that brief period of enforced idle- 
ness, when it was his sole means of making the drag- 
ging hours endurable. Dave, he knew, could not 
return in less than twenty days, and one daily task, 
never neglected, was to cut a notch in the stick that 
marked the humdrum passage of the days. Within 
the week he could hobble about on his crutches for 
a short distance; after that he felt more secure. 

A fortnight passed. And one day, weary with 
his studies, he fell asleep over his books. Some one 
touched his shoulder, and looking up, he saw an 
Indian in war paint and feathers. 

*'How?'' asked Will, with a show of friendli- 
ness, though he knew the brave was on the war- 
path. 

Half a score of bucks followed at the heels of the 
first, squeezing into the little dugout until there was 
barely room for them to sit down. 

With a sinking heart Will watched them enter, 
but he plucked up spirit again when the last, a chief, 
pushed in, for in this warrior he recognized an In- 
dian that he had once done a good turn. 

Whatever Lo's faults, he never forgets a kindness 
any more than he forgets an injury. The chief, who 
went by the name of Rain-in-the-Face, at once recog- 
nized Will, and asked him what he was doing in 
that place. Will displayed his bandages, and re- 
lated the mishap that had made them necessary, 
and refreshed the chief's memory of a certain occa- 
sion when a blanket and provisions had drifted his 
way. Rain-in-the-Face replied, with proper gravity, 
that he and his chums w^ere out after scalps, and con- 



84 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

fessed to designs upon Will's, but in consideration 
of Auld Lang Syne he would spare the paleface 
boy. 

Auld Lang Syne however did not save the blan- 
kets and provisions and the bedizened crew stripped 
the dugout almost bare of supplies; but Will was 
thankful enough to see the back of the last of them. 

Two days later a blizzard set in. Will took an 
inventory, and found that, economy considered, he 
had food for a week; but as the storm would surely 
delay Dave, he put himself on half rations. 

Three weeks were now gone, and he looked for 
Dave momentarily; but as night followed day and 
day grew into night again, he was given over to keen 
anxiety. Had Phillips lost his way? Had he failed 
to locate the snow-covered dugout? Had he per- 
ished in the storm? Had he fallen victim to In- 
dians? These and like questions haunted the poor 
lad continually. Study became impossible, and he 
lost his appetite for what food there was left; but 
the tally on the stick was kept. 

The twenty-ninth day dawned. Starvation stalked 
Into the dugout. The wood, too, was nigh gone. 
But great as was Will's physical suffering, his men- 
tal distress was greater. He sat before a handful 
of fire, shivering and hungry, wretched and de- 
spondent. 

Hark! Was that his name? Choking with emo- 
tion, unable to articulate, he listened intently. Yes; 
it was his name, and Dave's familiar voice, and with 
all his remaining energy he made an answering call. 

His voice enabled Phillips to locate the dugout, 
and a passage was cleared through the snov/. And 
w.'ien Will saw the door open, the tensions on his 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 85' 

nerves let go, and he wept — "like a girl," as h*e 
afterward told us. 

"God bless you, Dave !" he cried, as he clasped 
his friend around the neck. 



CHAPTER X 

ECHOES FROM SUMTER 

The guns that opened on Fort Sumter set the 
country all ablaze. In Kansas, where blood had 
already been shed, the excitement reached an ex- 
traordinary pitch. Will desired to enhst, but moth- 
er would not listen to the Idea. 

My brother had never forgotten the vow made in 
the post-trader's, and now with the coming of war 
his opportunity seemed ripe and lawful; he could 
at least take up arms against father's old-time ene- 
mies, and at the same time serve his country. This 
aspect of the case was presented to mother in glow- 
ing colors, backed by most eloquent pleading; but 
she remained obdurate. 

**You are too young to enlist, Willie," she said. 
*'They would not accept you, and If they did, I could 
not endure It. I have only a little time to live ; for 
my sake, then, wait till I am no more before you 
enter the army." 

This request was not to be disregarded, and Will 
promised that he would not enlist while mother 
lived. 

Kansas had long been the scene of bitter strife 
l)etween the two parties, and though there was a 

86 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 87^ 

preponderance of the Free-Soil element when It was 
admitted to the Union In 1861, we were fated to 
see some of the horrors of slavery. Suffering makes 
one wondrous kind; mother had suffered so much 
herself that the misery of others ever vibrated a 
chord of sympathy in her breast, and our house 
became a station on "the underground railway.'* 
Many a fugitive slave did we shelter, many here re- 
ceived food and clothing, and, aided by mother, a 
great number reached safe harbors. 

One old man, named Uncle Tom, became so much 
attached to us that he refused to go on. We kept 
him as help about the hotel. He was with us sev- 
eral months, and we children grew very fond of 
him. Every evening when supper was over, he sat 
before the kitchen fire and told a breathless audi- 
ence strange stories of the days of slavery. And one 
evening, never to be forgotten, Uncle Tom was sit- 
ting in his accustomed place, surrounded by his juve- 
nile listeners, when he suddenly sprang to his feet 
with a cry of terror. Some men had entered the 
hotel sitting-room, and the sound of their voices 
drove Uncle Tom to his own little room, and under 
the bed. 

''Mrs. Cody," said the unwelcome visitors, "we 
understand that you are harboring our runaway 
slaves. We propose to search the premises; and if 
we find our property, you cannot object to our re- 
moving It." 

Mother was sorely distressed for the unhappy 
Uncle Tom, but she knew objection would be futile. 
She could only hope that the old colored man had 
made good his escape. 

But no ! Uncle Tom lay quaking under his bed, 



88 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

and there his brutal master found him. It Is not 
Impossible that there were slaveholders kind and 
humane, but the bitter curse of slavery was the open 
door It left for brutality and Inhumanity; and never 
shall I forget the barbarity displayed by the owner 
of Uncle Tom before our horrified eyes. The poor 
slave was so old that his hair was wholly white ; yet 
a rope was tied to it, and, despite our pleadings, 
he was dragged from the house, every cry he ut- 
tered evoking only a savage kick from a heavy rid- 
ing-boot. When he was out of sight, and his 
screams out of hearing, we wept bitterly on mother's 
loving breast. 

Uncle Tom again escaped, and made his way to 
our house, but he reached it only to die. We sor- 
rowed for the poor old slave, but thanked God that 
he had passed beyond the Inhumanity of man. 

Debarred from serving his country as a soldier, 
Will decided to do so in some other capacity, and 
accordingly took service with a United States freight 
caravan, transporting supplies to Fort Laramie. On 
this trip his frontier training and skill as a marks- 
man were the means of saving a life. 

In Western travel the perils from outlaws and 
Indians were so real that emigrants usually sought 
the protection of a large wagon-train. Several fam- 
ilies of emigrants journeyed under the wing of the 
caravan to which Will was attached. 

When in camp one day upon the bank of the 
Platte River, and the members of the company were 
busied with preparations for the night's rest and the 
next day's journey, Mamie Perkins, a little girl from 
one of the emigrant families, was sent to the river 
for a pail of water. A moment later a monster buf- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 89 

falo was seen rushing upon the camp. A chorus of 
yells and a fusillade from rifles and revolvers neith- 
er checked nor swerved him. Straight through the 
camp he swept, like a cyclone, leaping ropes and 
boxes, overturning wagons, and smashing things 
generally. 

Mamie, the little water-bearer, had filled her pail 
and was returning in the track selected by the buf- 
falo. Too terrified to move, she watched, with 
white face and parted lips, the maddened animal 
sweep toward her, head down and tall up, its hoofs 
beating a thunderous tattoo on the plain. 

Will had been asleep, but the commotion brought 
him to his feet, and snatching up his rifle, he ran 
toward the little girl, aimed and fired at the buffalo. 
The huge animal lurched, staggered a few yards 
farther, then dropped within a dozen feet of the 
terrified child. 

A shout of relief went up, and while a crowd of 
praising men gathered about the embryo buffalo- 
hunter, Mamie was taken to her mother. Will never 
reHshed hearing his praises sung, and as the camp 
was determined to pedestal him as a hero, he ran 
away and hid In his tent. 

Upon reaching Fort Laramie, Will's first busi- 
ness was to look up Alf Slade, agent of the Pony 
Express line, whose headquarters were at Horse- 
shoe Station, twenty miles from the fort. He car- 
ried a letter of recommendation from Mr. Russell, 
but Slade demurred. 

"You're too young for a Pony Express rider," 
said he. 

''I rode three months a year ago, sir, and I'm 
much stronger now," said Will. 



90 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Oh, are you the boy rider that was on Chris- 
man's division?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"All right; I'll try you. If you can't stand it, I'll 
give you something easier." 

Will's run was from Red Buttes, on the North 
Platte, to Three Crossings, on the Sweetwater — 
seventy-six miles. 

The wilderness was of the kind that Is supposed 
to howl, and no person fond of excitement had rea- 
.son to complain of lack of it. One day Will ar- 
rived at his last station to find that the rider on the 
next run had been mortally hurt by Indians. There 
being no one else to do it, he volunteered to ride the 
eighty-five miles for the wounded man. He accom- 
plished it, and made his own return trip on time — a 
continuous ride of three hundred and twenty-two 
miles. There was no rest for the rider, but twenty- 
one horses were used on the run — the longest ever 
made by a Pony Express rider. 

Shortly afterward Will fell in with California 
Joe, a remarkable frontier character. He was stand- 
ing beside a group of boulders that edged the trail 
when Will first clapped eyes on him, and the Pony 
Express man Instantly reached for his revolver. The 
stranger as* quickly dropped his rifle, and held up 
his hands in token of friendliness. Will drew rein, 
and ran an interested eye over the man, who was 
dad in buckskin. 

California Joe, who was made famous in General 
Custer's book, entitled "Life on the Plains," was a 
tnan of wonderful physique, straight and stout as a 
pine. His red-brown hair hung In curls below his 
.shoulders ; he wore a full beard, and his keen, spar- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 91 

kling eyes were of the brightest hue. He came from 
an Eastern family, and possessed a good education, 
somewhat rusty from disuse. 

^'Hain't you the boy rider I has heard of — the 
youngest rider on the trail?'' he queried, in the bor- 
der dialect. Will made an affirmative answer, and 
gave his name. 

*'Waal," said Joe, "I guess youVe got some 
money on this trip. I was strikin' fer the Big Horn, 
and I found them two stiffs up yonder layin' fer ye. 
We had a little misunderstandin', and now I has 'em 
to plant." 

Will thanked him warmly, and begged him not to 
risk the perils of the Big Horn; but California Joe 
only laughed, and told him to push ahead. 

When- Will reached his station he related his ad- 
venture, and the stock-tender said it was "good-by, 
California Joe." But Will had conceived a better 
opinion* of his new friend, and he predicted his safe 
return. 

This confidence was justified by the appearance 
of California Joe, three months later, in the camp 
of the Pony Riders on the Overland Trail. He re- 
ceived a cordial greeting, and was assured by the 
men that they had not expected to see him alive 
again. In return, he told them his story, and a very 
interesting story it was. 

*'Some time ago," said he (I shall not attempt to 
reproduce his dialect), "a big gang of gold-hunters 
went into the Big Horn country. They never re- 
turned, and the general sent me to see if I could 
get any trace of them. The country is full of In- 
dians, and I kept my eye skinned for them, but I 
T/asn't looking for trouble from v/hite men. I hap- 



92 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

pened to leave my revolver where I ate dinner one 
day, and soon after discovering the loss I went back 
after the gun. Just as I picked it up I saw a white 
man on my trail. I smelled trouble, but turned and 
jogged along as if I hadn't seen anything. That 
night I doubled back over my trail until I came to 
the camp where the stranger belonged. As I ex- 
pected, he was one of a party of three, but they 
had five horses. I'll bet odds, Pard Billy" — this to 
Will — "that the two pilgrims laying for you be- 
longed to this outfit. 

"They thought I'd found gold, and were going to 
follow me until I struck the mine, then do me up 
and take possession. 

"The gold is there, too, lots of it. There's silver, 
iron, copper, and coal, too, but no one will look at 
them so long as gold is to be had; but those that go 
for gold will, many of them, leave their scalps be- 
hind. 

"We kept the trail day after day; the men stuck 
right to me, the chap ahead keeping me in sight and 
marking out the trail for his pard. When we got 
into the heart of the Indian country I had to use 
every caution; I steered clear of every smoke that 
showed a village or camp, and didn't use my rifle 
on game, depending on the rations I had with me. 

"At last I came to a spot that showed signs of a 
battle. Skulls and bones were strewn around, and 
after a look about I was satisfied beyond doubt that 
white men had been of the company. The purpose 
of my trip was accomplished; I could safely report 
that the party of whites had been exterminated by 
Indians. 

"The question now was, could I return without 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 93 

running into Indians? The first thing was to give 
my white pursuers the shp. 

"That night I crept down the bed of a small 
stream, passed their camp, and struck the trail a 
half mile or so below. 

**It was the luckiest move I ever made. I had 
ridden but a short distance when I heard the fa- 
miliar war-whoop, and knew that the Indians had 
surprised my unpleasant acquaintances and taken 
their scalps. I should have shared the same fate if 
I hadn't moved. 

"But, boys, it is a grand and beautiful country, 
full of towering mountains, lovely valleys, and 
mighty trees." 

About the middle of September the Indians be- 
came very troublesome along the Sweetwater. Will 
was ambushed one day, but fortunately he was 
mounted on one of the fleetest of the company's 
horses, and lying flat on the animal's back, he dis- 
tanced the redskins. At the relay sjiatlon he found 
the stock-tender dead, and as the horses had been 
driven off, he was unable to j^et a fresh mount; so 
he rode the same horse to Plontz Station, twelve 
miles farther. 

A few days later the station boss of the line hailed 
Will with the Information: 

"There's Injun signs about; so keep your eyes 
open." 

"I'm on the watch, boss," was Will's answer, as 
he exchanged ponies and dashed away. 

The trail ran through a grim wild. It was dark- 
ened by mountains, overhung with cliffs, and fringed 
with monster pines. The young rider's every sense 
had been sharpened by frontier dangers. Each 



94 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

dusky rock and tree was scanned for signs of lurk- 
ing foes as he clattered down the twilight track. 

One large boulder lay in plain view far down the 
valley, and for a second he saw a dark object ap- 
pear above it. 

He kept his course until within rifle-shot, and then 
suddenly swerved away In an oblique line. The 
ambush had failed, and a puff of smoke issued from 
behind the boulder. Two braves, In gorgeous war 
paint, sprang up, and at the same time a score of 
whooping Indians rode out of timber on the other 
side of the valley. 

Before Will the mountains sloped to a narrow 
pass; could he reach that, he would be comparative- 
ly safe. The Indians at the boulder were unmount- 
ed, and though they were fleet of foot, he easily 
left them behind. The mounted reds were those to 
be feared, and the. chief rode a very fleet pony. As 
they neared the pass Will saw that It was life against 
life. He drew his revolver, and the chief, for his 
part, fitted an arrow to his bow. 

Will was a shade the quicker. His revolver 
cracked, and the warrior pitched dead from his 
saddle. His fall was the signal for a shower of 
arrows, one of which wounded the pony slightly; 
but the station was reached on time. 

The Indians were now in evidence all the time. 
Between Split Rock and Three Crossings they 
robbed a stage, killed the driver and two passengers, 
and w^ounded Lieutenant Flowers, the assistant di- 
vision agent. They drove the stock from the sta- 
tions, and continually harassed the Pony Express 
riders and stage-drivers. So bold did the reds be- 
come that the Pony riders were laid off for six 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 95 

weeks, though stages were to make occasional runs 
if the business were urgent. A force was organized 
to search for missing stock. There y/ere forty men 
in the party — stage-drivers, express-riders, stock- 
tenders, and ranchmen; and they were captained by 
a plainsman named Wild Bill, who was a good 
friend of Will for many years. 

He had not earned the sobriquet through lawless- 
ness. It merely denoted his dashing and daring. 
Physically he was well-nigh faultless — tall, straight, 
and symmetrical, with broad shoulders and splendid 
chest. He was handsome of face, with a clear blue 
eye, firm and well-shaped mouth, aquiline nose, and 
brown, curling hair, worn long upon his shoulders. 
Born of a refined and cultured family, he, like Will, 
seemingly inherited from some remote ancestor his 
passion for the wild, free life of the plains. 

At this time Wild Bill was a well-known scout, 
and in this capacity served the United States to good 
purpose during the war. 



CHAPTER XI 

A SHORT BUT DASHING INDIAN CAMPAIGN 

As Vv^Ill was one of the lald-off riders, he was al- 
lowed to join the expedition against the Indian dep- 
redators, though he was the youngest member of 
the company. 

The campaign was short and sharp. The Indian 
trail was followed to Powder River, and thence 
along the banks of the stream the party traveled to 
within forty miles of the spot where, old Fort Reno 
now stands ; from here the trail ran westerly, at the 
foot of the mountains, and was crossed by Crazy 
Woman's Fork, a tributary of the Powder. 

Originally this branch stream went by the name 
of the Big Beard, because of a peculiar grass that 
fringed it. On Its bank had stood a village of the 
Crow Indians, and here a half-breed trader had set- 
tled. He bought the red man's furs, and gave him 
in return bright-colored beads and pieces of calico, 
paints, and blankets. In a short time he had all the 
furs in the village; he packed them on ponies, and 
said good-by to his Indian friends. They were sorry 
to see him go, but he told them he would soon return 
from the land of the paleface, bringing many gifts. 
Months passed; one day the Indian sentinels re- 

96 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 97 

ported the approach of a strange object. The vil- 
lage was alarmed, for the Crows had never seen ox, 
horse, or wagon; but the excitement was allayed 
when it was found that the strange outfit was the 
property of the half-breed trader. 

He had brought with him his wife, a white 
vv'oman; she, too, was an object of much curiosity 
to the Indians. 

The trader built a. lodge of wood and stones, and 
exposed all his goods for sale. He had brought 
beads, ribbons, and brass rings as gifts for all the 
tribe. 

One day the big chief visited the store; the trader 
led him into a back room, swore him to secrecy, and 
gave him a drink of black water. The chief felt 
strangely happy. Usually he was very dignified and 
stately; but under the influence of the strange liquid 
he sang and danced on the streets, and finally fell 
into a deep sleep, from \yhich he could not be wak- 
ened. This performance was repeated day after 
day, until the Indians called a council of war. They 
said the trader had bewitched their chief, and it 
must be stopped, or they would kill the intruder. A 
Vvarrior was sent to convey this intelligence to the 
trader; he laughed, took the warrior into the back 
room, swore him to secrecy, and gave him a drink 
of the black water. The young Indian, in his turn, 
v/ent upon the street, and laughed and sang and 
danced, just as the chief had done. Surprised, his 
companions gathered around him and asked him 
what was the matter. "Oh, go to the trader and get 
some of the black water!" said he. 

They asked for the strange beverage. The trader 
denied having any, and gave them a drink of ordi- 



98 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

nary water, which had no effect. When the young 
warrior awoke, they again questioned him. He 
said he must have been sick, and have spoken 
loosely. 

After this the chief and warrior were both drunk 
every day, and all the tribe were sorely perplexed. 
Another council of war was held, and a young chief 
arose, saying that he had made a hole in the wall of 
the trader's house, and had watched; and it was true 
the trader gave their friends black water. The half- 
breed and the two unhappy Indians were brought 
before the council, and the young chief repeated his 
accusation, saying that if it were not true, they 
might fight him. The second victim of the black 
water yet denied the story, and said the young chief 
lied; but the trader had maneuvered into the posi- 
tion he desired, and he confessed. They bade him 
bring the water, that they might taste it; but before 
he departed the young chief challenged to combat 
the warrior that had said he lied. This warrior was 
the best spearsman of the tribe, and all expected the 
death of the young chief; but the black water had 
palsied the warrior's aim, his trembling hand could 
not fling true, and he was pierced to the heart at the 
first thrust. The tribe then repaired to the trader's 
lodge, and he gave them all a drink of the black 
water. They danced and sang, and then lay upon 
the ground and slept. 

After two or three days the half-breed declined 
to provide black water free; if the warriors wanted 
it, they must pay for it. At first he gave them a 
*'sleep," as they called it, for one robe or skin, but 
as the stock of black water diminished, two, then 
three, then many robes were demanded. At last he 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 99 

said he had none left except what he himself desired. 
The Indians offered their ponies, until the trader 
had all the robes and all the ponies of the tribe. 

Now, he said, he would go back to the land of the 
paleface and procure more of the black water. Some 
of the warriors were willing he should do this ; oth- 
ers asserted that he had plenty of black water left, 
and .was going to trade with their enemy, the Sioux. 
The devil had awakened in the tribe. The trader's 
stores and packs were searched, but no black water 
was found. 'Twas hidden, then, said the Indians. 
The trader must produce it, or they would kill him. 
Of course he could not do this. He had sowed the 
wind; he reaped the whirlwind. He was scalped 
before the eyes of his horrified wife, and his body 
mutilated and mangled. The pooF woman attempt- 
ed to escape; a warrior struck her with his toma- 
hawk, and she fell as if dead. The Indians fired 
the lodge. As they did so, a Crow squaw saw that 
the white woman was not dead. She took the 
wounded creature to her .own lodge, bound up her 
wounds, and nursed her back to strength. But the 
unfortunate woman's brain was crazed, and could 
not bear the sight of a warrior. 

As soon as she could get around she ran away. 
The squaws v/ent out to look for her, and found her 
crooning on the banks of the Big Beard. She would 
talk with the squaws, but If a warrior appeared, she 
hid herself till he was gone. The squaws took her 
food, and she lived In a covert on the bank of the 
stream for many months. One day a warrior, out 
hunting, chanced upon her. Thinking she was lost, 
he sought to catch her, to take her back to the vil- 
lage, as all Indian tribes have a veneration for the 



loo LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

insane; but she fled Into the hills, and was never seen 
afterward. The stream became known as the "Place 
of the Crazy Woman," or Crazy Woman's Fork, 
and has retained the name to this day. 

At this point, to return to my narrative, the signs 
Indicated that reinforcements had reached the origi- 
nal body of Indians. The plainsmen were now in 
the heart of the Indian country, the utmost caution 
was required, and a sharp lookout was maintained. 
When Clear Creek, another tributary of the Pow- 
der, was come up with, an Indian camp, some three 
miles distant, was discovered on the farther bank. 

A council of war was held. Never before had 
the white man followed the red so far Into his do- 
main, and 'twas plain the Indian was off his guard; 
not a scout was posted. 

At Wild Bill's suggestion, the attack waited upon 
nightfall. Veiled by darkness, the company was to 
surprise the Indian camp and stampede the horses. 

The plan was carried out without a hitch. The 
Indians outnumbere.d the white men three to one, 
but when the latter rushed cyclonlcally through the 
camp, no effort was made to repel them, and by the 
time the Indians had recovered from their surprise 
the plainsmen had driven off all the horses — those 
belonging to the reds as well as those that had been 
stolen. A few shots were fired, but the whites rode 
scathless away, and unpursued. 

The line of march was now taken up for Sweet- 
v/ater Bridge, and here, four days later, the plains- 
men brought up, with their own horses and about a 
hundred Indian ponies. 

This successful sally repressed the hostilities for 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS loi 

a space. The recovered horses were put back on 
the road, and the stage-drivers and express-riders 
resumed their interrupted activity. 

"Billy," said Mr. Slade, who had taken a great 
fancy to Will — "Billy, this is a hard life, and you're 
too young to stand it. You've done good service, 
and in consideration of it I'll make you a supernu- 
merary. You'll have to ride only when it's abso- 
lutely necessary." 

There followed for Will a period of dolce far 
niente; days when he might lie on his back and 
watch the clouds drift across the sky; when he might 
have an eye to the beauty of the woodland and the 
sweep of the plain, without the nervous strain of 
studying every tree and knoll that might conceal a 
lurking redskin. Winter closed in, and with it came 
the memories of the trapping season of 1 860-61, 
when he had laid low his first and last bear. But 
there were other bears to be killed — the mountains 
were full of them; and one bracing morning he 
turned his horse's head toward the hills that lay 
down the Horseshoe Valley. Antelope and deer 
fed in the valley, the sage-hen and the jack-rabbit 
started up under his horse's hoofs, but such small 
game went by unnoticed. 

Two o'clock passed without a sign of bear, save 
some tracks in the snow. The wintry air had put a 
keen edge on Will's appetite, and hitching his tired 
horse, he shot one of the lately scorned sage-hens, 
and broiled it over a fire that invited a longer stay 
than an industrious bear-hunter could afford. But 
nightfall found him and his quarry still many miles 
asunder, and as he did npt relish the prospect of a 
chaffing from the men at the station, he cast about 



102 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

for a camping-place, finding on.e In an open spot on 
the bank of a little stream. Two more sage hens 
were added to the larder, and he was preparing to 
kindle a lire when the whinnying of a horse caught 
his ear. He ran to his own horse to check the cer- 
tain response, resaddled him, and disposed every- 
thing for flight, should it be necessary. Then, tak- 
ing his rifle, he put forth on a reconnolssance. 

He shortly came upon a bunch of horses, a dozen 
or more, around a crook of the stream. Above 
them, on the farther bank, shone a light. Drawing 
nearer, he saw that it came from a dugout, and he 
heard his own language spoken. Reassured, he 
walked boldly up to the door and rapped. 

Silence — followed by a hurried whispering, and 
the demand: 

* Who's there?" 

*'Friend and white man," answered Will. 

The door opened reluctantly, and an ugly-looking 
customer bade him enter. The Invitation was not 
responded to with alacrity, for eight such villainous- 
looking faces as the dugout held It would have been 
hard to match. Too late to retreat, there was noth- 
ing for it but a determined front, and let wit point 
the way of escape. Two of the men Will recog- 
nized as discharged teamsters from Lew Simpson's 
train, and from his knowledge of their long-standing 
weakness he assumed, correctly, that he had thrust 
his head into a den of horsethleves. 

''Who's with you?" was the first query; and this 
answered, with sundry other Information esteemed 
essential, "Where's your horse?" demanded the 
rnost striking portrait In the rogues' gallery. 

"Down by the creek," said Will. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 103 

"All right, sonny; we'll go down and get him," 
was the obliging rejoinder. 

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," said Will. "I'll 
fetch him and put up here over night, with your per- 
mission. I'll leave my gun here till I get back." 

"That's right; leave your gun, you won't need it," 
said the leader of the gang, with a grin that was as 
near amiability as his rough, stern calling permitted 
him. "Jim and I will go down with you after the 
horse." 

This offer compelled an acquiescence, Will con- 
soling himself with the reflection that it is easier to 
escape from two men than from eight. 

When the horse was reached, one of the outlaws 
obligingly volunteered to lead it. 

"All right," said Will, carelessly. "I shot a 
couple of sage-hens here ; I'll take them along. Lead 
away!" 

He followed with the birds, the second horsethief 
bringing up the rear. As the dugout was neared he 
let fall one of the hens, and asked the chap follow- 
ing to pick it up, and as the obliging rear guard 
stopped. Will knocked him senseless with the butt of 
his revolver. The man ahead heard the blow, and 
turned, with his hand on his gun, but Will dropped 
him with a shot, leaped on his horse and dashed off. 

The sextet in the dugout spring to arms, and cam.e 
running down the bank, and likely getting the par- 
ticulars of the escape from the ruffian by the sage- 
hen, who was probably only stunned for the mo- 
ment, they buckled warmly to the chase. The 
mountain-side was steep and rough, and men on foot 
were better than on horseback; accordingly Will dis- 
mounted, and clapping his pony soundly on the flank, 



104 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

sent him clattering on down the dedlvlty, and him- 
self stepped aside behind a large pine. The pursu- 
ing party rushed past him, and when they were 
safely gone, he climbed back over the mountain, and 
made his way as best he could to the Horseshoe. It 
was a twenty-five mile plod, and he reached the sta- 
tion early in the morning, weary and footsore. 

He woke the plainsmen, and related his adven- 
ture, and Mr. Slade at once organized a party to 
hunt out the bandits of the dugout. Twenty well- 
armed stock-tenders, stage-drivers, and ranchmen 
rode away at sunrise, and, notwithstanding his fa- 
tigue. Will accompanied them as guide. 

But the ill-favored birds had flown; the dugout 
was deserted. 

Will soon tired of this nondescript service, and 
gladly accepted a position as assistant wagon-master 
under Wild Bill, who had taken a contract to fetch 
a load of government freight from Rolla, Missouri. 

He returned with a wagon-train to Springfield, in 
that state, and thence came home on a visit. It was 
a brief one, however, for the air was too full of war 
for him to endure inaction. Contented only when 
at work, he continued to work on government freight 
contracts, until he received word that mother was 
dangerously ill. Then he resigned his position and 
hastened home. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE mother's last ILLNESS 

It was now autumn of 1863, and Will was a well- 
grown young man, tall, strong, and athletic, though 
not yet quite eighteen years old. Our oldest sister, 
Julia, had been married, the spring preceding, to 
Mr. J. A. Goodman. 

Mother had been growing weaker from day to 
day; being with her constantly, we had not remarked 
the change for the worse; but Will was much 
shocked by the transformation which a few months 
had wrought. Only an indomitable will power had 
enabled her to overcome the Infirmities of the body, 
and now it seemed to us as if her flesh had been 
refined away, leaving only the sweet and beautiful 
spirit. 

Will reached home none too soon, for only three 
weeks after his return the doctor told mother that ^ 
only a few hours were left to her, and If she had 
any last messages, It were best that she communicate 
them at once. That evening the children were called 
in, one by one, to receive her blessing and farewell. 
Mother was an earnest Christian character, but at 
that time I alone of all the children appeared religi- 
ously disposed. Young as I was, the solemnity of 

105 



io6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the hour when she charged me with the spiritual 
welfare of the family has remained with me through 
all the years that have gone. Calling me to her side, 
she sought to Impress upon my childish mind, not the 
sorrow of death, but the glory of the resurrection. 
Then, as If she were setting forth upon a pleasant 
journey, she bade me good by, and I kissed her for 
the last time in life. When next I saw her face it 
was cold and quiet. The beautiful soul had forsaken 
its dwelling-place of clay, and passed on through the 
Invisible, to wait, a glorified spirit, on the farther 
shore for the coming of the loved ones whose life- 
story was as yet unfinished. 

Julia and Will remained with her throughout the 
night. Just before death there came to her a brief 
season of long-lost animation, the last flicker of the 
torch before .darkness. She talked, to them almost 
continuously until the dawn. Into their hands was 
given the task of educating the others of the family, 
and on their hearts and consciences the charge was 
graven. Charlie,* who was born during the early 
Kansas troubles, had ever been a delicate child, and 
he lay an especial* burden on her mind. 

*'If," she said, "It be possible for the dead to call 
the living, I shall call Charlie to me.'' 

Within' the space of a year, Charlie, too, was 
gone; and who shall say that the yearning of a 
mother's heart for her child was not stronger than 
the influences of the material world? 

Upon Will mother sought to Impress the respon- 
sibilities of his destiny. She reminded him of the 
prediction of the fortune-teller, that *'his name 
would be known the world over." 

"But," said she, "only the names of them that are 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 107 

upright, brave, temperate, and true can be honor- 
ably known. Remember always that 'he that over- 
cometh his* own soul is greater than he who taketh 
a city.' Already you have shown great abilities, but 
remember that they carry with them grave responsi- 
bilities. You have been a good son to me. In the 
hour of need you have always aided me, so that I 
can die now feeling that my children are not unpro- 
vided for. I have not wished you to enlist in the 
war, partly because I knew you were too young, 
partly because my life was drawing near its close. 
But now you are nearly eighteen, and If when I am 
gone your country needs you In the strife of which 
we In Kansas know the bitterness, I bid you go as 
soldier in behalf of the cause for which your father 
gave his life." 

She talked until sleep followed exhaustion. When 
she awoke she tried to raise herself in bed. Will 
sprang to aid her, and with the upward look of one 
that sees ineffable things, she passed away, resting 
in his arms. 

Oh, the glory and the gladness 

Of a life without a fear; 
Of a death like nature fading 

In the autumn of the year; 
Of a sweet and dreamless slumber, 

In a faith triumphant borne, 
Till the bells of Easter wake her 

On the resurrection morn! 

Ah, for such a blessed falling 

Into quiet sleep at last, 
When the ripening grain is garnered, 

And the toil and trial past; 
When the red and gold of sunset 

Slowly changes into gray; 
Ah, for such a quiet passing. 

Through the night into the day! 



io8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

The morning of the 22d day of November, 1863, 
began the saddest day of our lives. We rode in a 
rough lumber wagon to Pilot Knob Cemetery, a 
long, cold, hard ride; but we wished our parents to 
be united in death as they had been in life, so buried 
mother in a grave next to father's. 

The road leading from the cemetery forked a 
short distance outside of Leavenworth, one branch 
running to the city, the other winding homeward 
along Government Hill. When we were returning, 
and reached this fork, Will jumped out of the 
wagon. 

"I can't go home when I know mother Is no longer 
there," said he. "I am going to Leavenworth to 
see Eugene Hathaway. I shall stay with him to- 
night." 

We pitied Will — he and mother had been so much 
to each other — and raised no objection, as we should 
have done had we known the real purpose of his 
visit. 

The next morning, therefore, we were much sur- 
prised to see him and Eugene ride into the yard, both 
clothed in the blue uniforms of United States 
soldiers. Overwhelmed with grief over mother's 
death. It seemed more than we could bear to see our 
big brother ride off to war. We threatened to in- 
form the recruiting officers that he was not yet 
eighteen; but he was too thoroughly In earnest to be 
moved by our objections. The regiment in v/hich 
he had enlisted was already ordered to the front, 
and he had come home to say good-by. He then 
rode away to the hardships, dangers, and privations 
of a soldier's life. The joy of action balanced the 
account for him, while we were obliged to accept 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 109 

the usual lot of girlhood and womanhood — the 
weary, anxious waiting, when the heart Is torn with 
uncertainty and suspense over the fate of the loved 
ones who bear the brunt and burden of the day. 

The order sending Will's regiment to the front 
was countermanded, and he remained for a time In 
Fort Leavenworth. His Western experiences were 
well known there, and probably for this reason he 
was selected as a bearer of military dispatches to 
Fort Earned. Some of our old pro-slavery enemies, 
who were upon the point of joining the Confederate 
army, learned of Will's mission, which they thought 
afforded them an excellent chance to gratify their 
ancient grudge against the father by murdering the 
son. The killing could be justified on the plea of 
service rendered to their cause. Accordingly, a plan 
was made to waylay Will and capture his dispatches 
at a creek he was obliged to ford. 

He received warning of this plot. On such a mis- 
sion the utmost vigilance was demanded at all times, 
and with an ambuscade ahead of him, he was alert- 
ness itself. His knowledge of Indian warfare stood 
him In good stead now. Not a tree, rock, or hillock 
escaped his keen glance. When he neared the creek 
at which the attack was expected, he left the road, 
and attempted to ford the stream four or five hun- 
dred yards above the common crossing, but found 
it so swollen by recent rains that he was unable to 
cross; so he cautiously picked his way back to the 
trail. 

The assassins' camp was two or three hundred 
feet away from the creek. Darkness was coming 
on, and he took advantage of the shelter afforded 
by the bank, screening himself behind every clump 



no LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

of bushes. His enemies would look for his approach 
from the other direction, and he hoped to give them 
the slip and pass by unseen. 

When he reached the point where he could see 
the little cabin where the men were probably hiding, 
he ran upon a thicket in which five saddle-horses 
were concealed. 

"Five to one! I don't stand much show if they 
see me," he decided as he rode quietly and slowly 
along, his carbine in his hand ready for use. 

''There he goes, boys! he's at the ford!" came 
a sudden shout from the camp, followed by the crack 
of a rifle. Two or three more shots rang out, and 
from the bound his horse gave Will knew one bullet 
had reached a mark. He rode Into the water, then 
turned in his saddle and aimed like a flash at a man 
within range. The fellow staggered and fell, and 
Will put spurs to his horse, turning again only when 
the stream was crossed. The men were running to- 
ward the ford, firing as they came, and getting a 
warm return fire. As Will was already two or three 
hundred yards in advance, pursuers on foot were not 
to be feared, and he knew that before they could 
reach and mount their horses he would be beyond 
danger. Much depended on his horse. Would the 
gallant beast, wounded as he was, be able to long 
maintain the fierce pace he had set? Mile upon 
mile was put behind before the stricken creature fell. 
Will shouldered the saddle and bridle and continued 
on foot. He soon reached a ranch where a fresh 
mount might be procured, and was shortly at Fort 
Larned. 

After a few hours' breathing-spell, he left for 
Fort Leavenworth with return dispatches. As he 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS iii 

drew near the ford, he resumed his sharp lookout, 
though scarcely expecting trouble. The planners of 
the ambuscade had been so certain that five men 
could easily make away with one boy that there had 
been no effort at disguise, and Will had recognized 
several of them. He, for his part, felt certain that 
they would get out of that part of the country with 
all dispatch; but he employed none the less caution 
in crossing the creek, and his carbine was ready for 
business as he approached the camp. 

The fall of his horse's hoofs evoked a faint call 
from one of the buildings. It was not repeated; In- 
stead there Issued hollow moans. 

It might be a trap ; again, a fellow-creature might 
be at death's door. Will rode a bit nearer the cabin 
entrance. 

^'Who's there?" he called. 

''Come In, for the love of God! I am dying here 
alone!" was the reply. 

"Who are you?" 

"Ed Norcross." 

Will jumped from his horse. This was the man 
at whom he had fired. He entered the cabin. 

"What is the matter?" he asked. 

"I was wounded by a bullet," moaned Norcross, 
"and my comrades deserted me." 

Will was now within range of the poor fellow 
lying on the floor. 

"Will Cody!" he cried. 

Will dropped on his knees beside the dying man, 
choking with the emotion that the memory of long 
years of friendship had raised. 

"My poor Ed!" he murmured. "And it was my 
bullet that struck you." 



112 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"It was in defense of your own life, Will," said 
Norcross. "God knows, I don't blame you. Don't 
think too hard of me. I did everything I could to 
save you. It was I who sent you warning. I hoped 
you might find some other trail." 

"I didn't shoot with the others," continued Nor- 
cross, after a short silence. "They deserted me. 
They said they would send help back, but they 
haven't." 

Will filled the empty canteen lying on the floor, 
and rearranged the blanket that served as a pillow; 
then he offered to dress the neglected wound. But 
the gray of death was already upon the face of 
Norcross. 

"Never mind, Will," he whispered; "it's not 
worth while. Just stay with me till I die." 

It was not a long vigil. Will sat beside his old 
friend, moistening his pallid lips with water. In a 
very short time the end came. Will disposed the 
stiffening limbs, crossing the hands over the heart, 
and with a last backward look went out of the cabin. 

It was his first experience in the bitterness and 
savagery of war, and he set a grave and downcast 
face against the remainder of his journey. 

As he neared Leavenworth he met the friend who 
had conveyed the dead man's warning message, and 
to him he committed the task of bringing home the 
body. His heaviness of spirit was scarcely miti- 
gated by the congratulations of the commander of 
Fort Leavenworth upon his pluck and resources, 
which had saved both his life and the dispatches. 

There followed another period of inaction, al- 
ways irritating to a lad of Will's restless tempera- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 113 

ment. Meantime, we at home were having our own 
experiences. 

We were rejoiced in great measure when sister 
Julia decided that we had learned as much as might 
be hoped for in the country school, and must there- 
after attend the winter and spring terms of the 
school at Leavenworth. The dresses she cut for us, 
however, still followed the country fashion, which 
has regard rather to wear than to appearance, and 
we had not been a day in the city school before we 
discovered that our apparel had stamped ''provin- 
cial" upon us in plain, large characters. In addition 
to this, our brother-in-law, in his endeavor to admin- 
ister the estate economically, bought each of us a 
pair of coarse calfskin shoes. To these we were 
quite unused, mother having accustomed us to serv- 
iceable but pretty ones. The author of our "ex- 
treme" mortification, totally Ignorant of the shy and 
sensitive nature of girls, only laughed at our pro- 
tests, and in justice to him it may be said that he 
really had no conception of the torture he inflicted 
upon us. 

We turned to Will. In every emergency he was 
our first thought, and here was an emergency that 
taxed his powers to an extent we did not dream of. 
He made answer to our letter that he was no longer 
an opulent trainman, but drew only the slender in- 
come of a soldier, and even that pittance was in ar- 
rears. Disappointment was swallowed up in re- 
morse. Had we reflected how keenly he must feel 
his inability to help us, we would not have sent him 
the letter, which, at worst, contained only a sly sug- 
gestion of a fine opportunity to relieve sisterly dis- 
tress. All his life he had responded to our every de- 



114 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

mand; now allegiance was due his country first. But, 
as was always the way with him, he made the best 
of a bad matter, and we were much comforted by 
the receipt of the following letter: 

"My Dear Sisters: 

"I am sorry that I cannot help you and furnish you with such 
clothes as you wish. At this writing I am so short of funds my- 
self that if an entire Mississippi steamer could be bought for ten 
cents I couldn't purchase the smokestack. I will soon draw my 
pay, and I will send it, every cent, to you. So brave it out, girls, 
a little longer. In the meantime I will write to Al. 

Lovingly, 

Will." 

We were comforted, yes; but my last hope was 
gone, and I grew desperate. I had never worn the 
obnoxious shoes purchased by my guardian, and I 
proceeded to dispose of them forever. I struck 
what I regarded as a famous bargain with an accom- 
modating Hebrew, and came into possession of a 
pair of shiny morocco shoes, worth perhaps a third 
of what mine had cost. One would say they were 
designed for shoes, and they certainly looked like 
shoes, but as certainly they were not wearable. Still 
they were of service, for the transaction convinced 
my guardian that the truest economy did not lie in 
the purchasing of calfskin shoes for at least one of 
his charges. A little later he received a letter from 
Will, presenting our grievances and advocating our 
cause. Will also sent us the whole of his next 
month's pay as soon as he drew it. 

In February, 1864, Sherman began his march 
through Mississippi. The Seventh Kansas regiment, 
known as "Jennison's Jayhawkers," was reorgan- 
ized at Fort Leavenworth as veterans, and sent to 
Memphis, Tenn., to join General A. J. Smith's com- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 115 

mand, which was to operate against General Forrest 
and cover the retreat of General Sturgis, who had 
been so badly whipped by Forrest at Cross-Roads. 
Will was exceedingly desirous of engaging In a great 
battle, and through some officers with whom he was 
acquainted, preferred a petition to be transferred to 
this regiment. The request was granted, and his 
delight knew no bounds. He wrote to us that his 
great desire was about to be gratified, that he should 
soon know what a real battle was like. 

He was well versed In Indian warfare; now he 
was ambitious to learn, from experience, the supe- 
riority of civilized strife — rather, I should say, of 
strife between civilized people. 

General Smith had acquainted himself with the 
record made by the young scout of the plains, and 
shortly after reaching Memphis he ordered Will to 
report to headquarters for special service. 

"I am anxious," said the general, "to gain re- 
liable Information concerning the enemy's move- 
ments and position. This can only be done by enter- 
ing the Confederate camp. You possess the needed 
qualities — nerve, coolness, resource — and I believe 
you could do it." 

"You mean," answered Will quietly, "that you 
wish me to go as a spy Into the rebel camp." 

"Exactly. But you must understand the risk you 
run. If you are captured, you will be hanged." 

"I am ready to take the chances, sir," said Will; 
"ready to go at once. If you wish." 

General Smith's stern face softened Into a smile 
at the prompt response. 

"I am sure, Cody,'i said he kindly, "that if any 
one can go through safely, you will. Dodging In- 



:ii6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

dians on the plains was good training for the work 
In hand, which demands quick intelligence and cease- 
less vigilance. I never require such service of any 
one, but since you volunteer to go, take these maps 
of the country to your quarters and study them 
carefully. Return this evening for full Instruc- 
tions." 

During the few days his regiment had been in 
camp. Will had been on one or two scouting expe- 
ditions, and was somewhat familiar with the Imme- 
diate environments of the Union forces. The maps 
were unusually accurate, showing every lake, river, 
creek, and highway, and even the by-paths from 
plantation to plantation. 

Only the day before, while on a reconnoissance, 
Will had captured a Confederate soldier, who 
proved to be an old acquaintance named Nat Gold- 
en. Will had served with Nat on one of Russell, 
Majors & Waddell's freight trains, and at one time 
had saved the young man's life, and thereby earned 
his enduring friendship. Nat was born In the East, 
became Infected with Western fever, and ran away 
from home In order to become a plainsman. 

"Well, this is too bad," said Will, when he recog- 
nized his old friend, "I would rather have captured 
a whole regiment than you. I don't like to take you 
in as a prisoner. What did you enlist on the wrong 
side for, anyway?" 

"The fortunes of war, Billy, my boy," laughed 
Nat, ""Friend shall be turned against friend, and 
brother against brother, you know. You wouldn't 
have had me for a prisoner, either. If my rifle hadn't 
snapped; but I'm glad It did, for I shouldn't want to 
he the one that shot you." 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOI^TS 117 

"Well, I don't want to see you strung up," said 
Will; "so hand me over those papers you have, and 
I will turn you In as an ordinary prisoner." 

Nat's face paled as he asked, "Do you think I'm 
a spy, Billy?" 

"I know it." 

"Well," was the reply, "I've risked my life to 
obtain these papers, but I suppose they will be taken 
from me anyway; so I might as well give them up 
now, and save my neck." 

Examination showed them to be accurate maps of 
the location and position of the Union army; and 
besides the maps, there were papers containing much 
valuable information concerning the number of sol- 
diers and officers and their intended movements. 
Will had not destroyed these papers, and he now 
saw a way to use them to his own advantage. When 
he reported for final Instructions, therefore, at Gen- 
eral Smith's tent, in the evening. Will said to him : 

"I gathered from a statement dropped by the 
prisoner captured yesterday, that a Confederate spy 
has succeeded in making out and carrying to the 
enemy a complete map of the position of our regi- 
ment, together with som.e Idea of the projected plan 
of campaign." 

"Ah," said the general; "I am glad that you have 
put me on my guard. I will at once change my po- 
sition, so that the Information will be of no value to 
them." 

Then followed full Instructions as to the duty re- 
quired of the volunteer. 

"When will you set out?" asked the general. 

"To-night, sir. I have procured my uniform, and 
have everything prepared for an early start." 



ii8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Going to change your colors, eh?" 

*'Yes, for the time being, but not my principles." 

The general looked approvingly at Will. "You 
will need all the wit, pluck, nerve, and caution of 
which you are possessed to come through this ordeal 
safely," said he. "I believe you can accomplish it, 
and I rely upon you fully. Good by, and success go 
with you!" 

After a warm hand-clasp, Will returned to his 
tent, and lay down for a few hours' rest. By four 
o'clock he was in the saddle, riding toward the Con- 
federate lines. 



CHAPTER XIII 

IN THE SECRET SERVICE 

In common walks of life, to play the spy Is an Ig- 
noble role; yet the work has to be done, and there 
must be men to do it. There always are such men 
— nervy fellows who swing themselves Into the sad- 
dle when their commander lifts his hand, and ride 
a mad race, with Death at the horse's flank every 
mile of the way. They are the unknown heroes of 
every war. 

It was with a full realization of the dangers con- 
fronting him that Will cantered away from the 
Union lines, his borrowed uniform under his arm. 
As soon as he had put the outposts behind him, he 
dismounted and exchanged the blue clothes for the 
gray. Life on the plains had bronzed his face. For 
aught his complexion could tell, the ardent Southern 
sun might have kissed It to Its present hue. Then, if 
ever, his face was his fortune in good part; but 
there was, too, a stout heart under his jacket, and 
the light of confidence In his eyes. 

The dawn had come up when he sighted the Con- 
federate outposts. What lay beyond only time 
could reveal; but with a last reassuring touch of the 
papers In his pocket, he spurred his horse up to the 

119 



I20 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

first of the outlying sentinels. Promptly the cus- 
tomary challenge greeted him: 

"Halt! Who goes there?" 

"Friend." 

"Dismount, friend! Advance and give the coun- 
tersign!" 

"Haven't the countersign," said Will, dropping 
from his horse, "but I have important information 
for General Forrest. Take me to him at once." 

"Are you a Confederate soldier?" 

"Not exactly. But I have some valuable news 
about the Yanks, I reckon. Better let me see the 
general." 

"Thus far," he added to himself, "I have played 
the part. The combination of 'Yank' and 'I reckon' 
ought to establish me as a promising candidate for 
Confederate honors." 

His story was not only plausible, but plainly and 
fairly told; but caution is a child of war, and the 
sentinel knew his business. The pseudo-Confeder- 
ate was disarmed as a necessary preliminary, and 
marched between two guards to headquarters, many 
curious eyes (the camp being now astir) following 
the trio. 

When Forrest heard the report, he ordered the 
■prisoner brought before him. One glance at the 
^general's handsome but harsh face, and the young 
man steeled his nerves for the encounter. There 
was no mercy in those cold, piercing eyes. This first 
duel of wits was the one to be most dreaded. Un- 
less confidence were established, his after work must 
be done at a disadvantage. 

The general's penetrating gaze searched the 
young face before him for several seconds. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 121 

"Well, sir," said he, "what do you want with 
me?" 

Yankee-like, the reply was another question: 

"You sent a man named Nat Golden Into the 
Union lines, did you not, sir?" 

"Andlf Idid, whatthen?"^ 

"He Is an old friend of mine. He tried for the 
Union camp to verify information that he had re- 
ceived, but before he started he left certain papers 
with me in case he should be captured." 

"Ah!" said Forrest coldly. "And he was cap- 
tured?" 

"Yes, sir; but, as I happen to know, he wasn't 
hanged, for these weren't on him." 

As he spoke. Will took from his pocket the pa- 
pers he had obtained from Golden, and passed them 
over with the remark, "Golden asked me to take 
them to you." 

General Forrest was familiar with the hapless 
Golden's handwriting, and the documents were man- 
ifestly genuine. His suspicion was not aroused. 

"These are important papers," said he, when he 
had run his eye over them. "They contain valuable 
information, but we may not be able to use It, as we 
are about to change our location. Do you know 
what these papers contain?" 

"Every word," was the truthful reply. "I studied 
them, so that in case they were destroyed you would 
still have the Information from me." 

"A wise thing to do," said Forrest approvingly. 
"Are you a soldier?" 

"I have not as yet joined the army, but I am 
pretty well acquainted with this section, and perhaps 
could serve you as a scout." 



122 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

**Um!'* said the general, looking the now 
easy-minded young man over. "You wear our 
uniform.'* 

*'It's Golden's," was the second truthful answer. 
*'He left it with me when he put on the blue." 

"And what is your name?" 

"Frederick Williams." 

Pretty near the truth. Only a final "s" and a 
rearrangement of his given names. 

"Very well," said the general, ending the audi- 
ence; "you may remain in camp. If I need you, 
I'll send for you." 

He summoned an orderly, and bade him make the 
volunteer scout comfortable at the courier's camp. 
Will breathed a sigh of relief as he followed at the 
orderly's heels. The ordeal was successfully passed. 
The rest was action. 

Two days went by. In them Will picked up val- 
uable information here and there, drew maps, and 
was prepared to depart at the first favorable oppor- 
tunity. It was about time, he figured, that General 
Forrest found some scouting work for him. That 
was a passport beyond the lines, and he promised 
himself the outposts should see the cleanest pair of 
heels that ever left unwelcome society in the rear. 
But evidently scouting was a drug in the general's 
market, for the close of another day found Will im- 
patiently awaiting orders in the couriers' quarters. 
This sort of inactivity was harder on the nerves 
than more tangible perils, and he about made up 
his mind that when he left camp it would be without 
orders, but with a hatful of bullets singing after him. 
And he was quite sure that his exit lay that way 
when, strolling past headquarters, he clapped eyes 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 123 

on the very last person that he expected or wished to 
see — Nat Golden! 

And Nat was talking to an adjutant-general ! 

There were just two things to do, knock Golden 
on the head, or cut and run. Nat would not betray 
him knowingly, but unwittingly was certain to do so 
the moment General Forrest questioned him. There 
could be no choice between the two courses open; it 
was cut and run, and as a preliminary Will cut for 
his tent. First concealing his papers, he saddled his 
horse and rode toward the outposts with a serene 
countenance. 

The same sergeant that greeted him when he 
entered the lines chanced to be on duty, and of him 
Will asked an unimportant question concerning the 
outer-flung lines. Yet as he rode along he could not 
forbear throwing an apprehensive glance behind. 

No pursuit was making, and the farthest picket- 
line was passed by a good fifty yards. Ahead was a 
stretch of timber. 

Suddenly a dull tattoo of horses' hoofs caught his 
ear, and he turned to see a small cavalcade bearing 
down upon him at a gallop. He sank the spurs Into 
his horse's side and plunged into the timber. 

It was out of the frying-pan Into the fire. He ran 
plump Into a half-dozen Confederate cavalrymen, 
guarding two Union prisoners. 

"Men, a Union spy is escaping!" shouted Will. 
"Scatter at once, and head him off. I'll look after 
your prisoners." 

There was a ring of authority In the command; it 
came at least from a petty officer; and without 
thought of challenging it, the cavalrymen hurried 
right and left In search of the fugitive. 



124 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Come," said Will, in a hurried but smiling whis- 
per to the dejected pair of Union men. "I'm the 
spy! There!" cutting the ropes that bound their 
wrists. "Now ride for your lives!" 

Off dashed the trio, and not a minute too soon. 
Will's halt had been brief, but it had been of ad- 
vantage to his pursuers, who, with Nat Golden at 
their head, came on in full cry, not a hundred yards 
behind. 

Here was a race with Death at the horse's flanks. 
The timber stopped a share of the singing bullets, 
but there were plenty that got by the trees, one of 
them finding lodgment in the arm of one of the flee- 
ing Union soldiers. Capture meant certain death 
for Will; for his companions it meant Andersonville 
or Libby, at the worst, which was perhaps as bad as 
death; but Will would not leave them, though his 
horse was fresh, and he could easily have distanced 
them. Of course, if it became necessary, he was 
prepared to cut their acquaintance, but for the pres- 
ent he made one of the triplicate targets on which 
the galloping marksmen were endeavoring to score 
a bull's-eye. 

The edge of the wood was shortly reached, and 
beyond — inspiring sight! — lay the outposts of the 
Union army. The pickets, at sight of the fugitives, 
sounded the alarm, and a body of blue-coats re- 
sponded. 

Will would have gladly tarried for the skirmish 
that ensued, but he esteemed it his first duty to de- 
liver the papers he had risked his life to obtain; so, 
leaving friend and foe to settle the dispute as best 
they might, he put for the clump of trees where he 
had hidden his uniform, and exchanged it for the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 125 

gray, that had served Its purpose and was no longer 
endurable. Under his true colors he rode Into 
camp. 

General Forrest almost Immediately withdrew 
from that neighborhood, and after the atrocious 
massacre at Fort Pillow, on the 12th of April, left 
the state. General Smith was recalled, and Will was 
transferred, with the commission of guide and scout 
for the Ninth Kansas Regiment. 

The Indians w^ere giving so much trouble along 
the line of the old Santa Fe trail that troops were 
needed to protect the stagecoaches, emigrants, and 
caravans traveling that great highway. Like nearly 
all our Indian wars, this trouble was precipitated by 
the Injustice of the white man's government of cer- 
tain of the native tribes. In i860 Colonel A. G. 
Boone, a worthy grandson of the Immortal Daniel, 
made a treaty with the Comanches, Klowas, Chey- 
ennes, and Arapahoes, and at their request he was 
made agent. During his wise, just, and humane ad- 
ministration all of these savage nations were quiet, 
and held the kindliest feelings toward the whites. 
Any one could cross the plains without fear of mo- 
lestation. In 1 861 a charge of disloyalty was made 
against Colonel Boone by Judge Wright, of Indiana, 
and he succeeded In having the right man removed 
from the right place. Russell, Majors & Waddell, 
recognizing his Influence over the Indians, gave him 
fourteen hundred acres of land near Pueblo, Colo- 
rado. Colonel Boone moved there, and the place 
was named BooneviUe. Fifty chieftains from the 
tribes referred to visited Colonel Boone In the fall 
of 1862, and implored him to return to them. He 
told them that the President had sent him away. 



126 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

They offered to raise money, by selling their horses, 
to send him to Washington, to tell the Great Father 
what their agent was doing — that he stole their 
goods and sold them back again; and they bade the 
colonel say that there would be trouble unless some 
one were put in the dishonest man's place. With 
the innate logic for which the Indian is noted, they 
declared that they had as much right to steal from 
passing caravans as the agent had to steal from 
them. 

No notice was taken of so trifling a matter as an 
injustice to the Indian. The administration had its 
hands more than full in the attempt to right the 
wrongs of the negro. 

In the fall of 1863 a caravan passed along the 
trail. It was a small one, but the Indians had been 
quiet for so long a time that travelers were begin- 
ning to lose fear of them. A band of warriors rode 
up to the wagon-train and asked for something to 
eat. The teamsters thought they would be doing 
humanity a service if they killed a redskin, on the 
ancient principle that "the only good Indian is a 
dead one." Accordingly, a friendly, inoffensive In- 
dian was shot. 

The bullet that reached his heart touched that of 
every warrior in these nations. Every man but one 
in the wagon-train was slain, the animals driven off, 
and the wagons burned. 

The fires of discontent that had been smoldering 
for two years in the red man's breast now burst 
forth with volcanic fury. Hundreds of atrocious 
murders followed, with wholesale destruction of 
property. 

The Ninth Kansas Regiment, under the command 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 127 

of Colonel Clark, was detailed to protect the old 
trail between Fort Lyon and Fort Earned, and as 
guide and scout Will felt wholly at home. He 
knew the Indian and his ways, and had no fear of 
him. His fine horse and glittering trappings were 
an Innocent delight to him; and who will not pardon 
in him the touch of pride — say vanity — that thrilled 
him as he led his regiment down the Arkansas 
River? 

During the summer there were sundry skirmishes 
with Indians. The same old vigilance, learned In 
earlier days on the frontier, v/as In constant de- 
mand, and there was many a rough and rapid ride 
to drive the hostlles from the trail. Whatever 
Colonel Clarke's men may have had to complain of, 
there was no lack of excitement, no dull days. In that 
summer. 

In the autumn the Seventh Kansas was again ord- 
ered to the front, and at the request of Its officers 
Will was detailed for duty with his old regiment. 
General Smith's orders were that he should go to 
Nashville. Rosecrans was then In command of the 
Union forces in Missouri. His army was very 
small, numbering only about 6,500 men, while the 
Confederate General Price was on the point of en- 
tering the state with 20,000. This superiority of 
numbers was so great that General Smith received 
an order countermanding the other, and remained 
in Missouri, joining forces with Rosecrans to oppose 
Price. Rosecrans's entire force still numbered only 
11,000, and he deemed it prudent to concentrate his 
army around St. Louis. General Ewlng's forces 
and a portion of General Smith's command occu- 
pied Pilot Knob. On Monday, the 24th of Sep- 



128 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

tember, 1864, Price advanced against this position, 
but was repulsed with heavy losses. An adjacent 
fort in the neighborhood of Ironton was assaulted, 
but the Confederate forces again sustained a severe 
loss. This fort held a commanding lookout on 
Shepherd Mountain, which the Confederates occu- 
pied, and their well-directed fire obliged General 
Ewing to fall back to Harrison Station, where he 
made a stand, and some sharp fighting followed. 
General Ewing again fell back, and succeeded in 
reaching General McNeill, at Rolla, with the main 
body of his troops. 

This was Will's first serious battle, and it so 
chanced that he found himself opposed at one point 
by a body of Missouri troops numbering many of 
the men who had been his father's enemies and per- 
secutors nine years before. In the heat of the con- 
flict he recognized more than one of them, and with 
the recognition came the memory of his boyhood's 
vow to avenge his father's death. Three of those 
men fell in that battle; and whether or not it was 
he who laid them low, from that day on he ac- 
counted himself freed of his melancholy obligation. 

After several hard-fought battles, Price withdrew 
from Missouri with the remnant of his command — 
seven thousand where there had been twenty. 

During this campaign Will received honorable 
mention *'fcr most conspicuous bravery and valu- 
able service upon the field," and he was shortly 
brought into favorable notice in many quarters. The 
worth of the tried veterans was known, but none of 
the older men was in more demand that Will. His 
was seemingly a charmed life. Often was he de- 
tailed to bear dispatches across the battlefield, and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 129 

though horses were shot under him — riddled by bul- 
lets or torn by shells — he himself went scathless. 

During this campaign, too, he ran across his old 
friend of the plains, Wild Bill. Stopping at a farm- 
house one day to obtain a meal, he was not a little 
surprised to hear the salutation: 

"Well Billy, my boy, how are you?" 

He looked around to see a hand outstretched 
from a coat-sleeve of Confederate gray, and as he 
knew Wild Bill to be a staunch Unionist, he sur- 
mised that he was engaged upon an enterprise sim- 
ilar to his own. There was an exchange of chaffing 
about gray uniforms and blue, but more serious talk 
followed. 

"Take these papers, Billy," said Wild Bill, pas- 
sing over a package. "Take 'em to General Mc- 
Neill, and tell him Vm picking up too much good 
news to keep away from the Confederate camp." 

"Don't take too many chances," cautioned Will, 
well knowing that the only chances the other would 
take would be the sort that were not visible. 

Colonel Hickok, to give him his real name, re- 
plied, with a laugh: 

"Practice what you preach, my son. Your neck 
is of more value than mine. You have a future, but 
mine Is mostly past. I'm getting old." 

At this point the good woman of the house punc- 
tuated the colloquy with a savory meal, which the 
pair discussed with good appetite and easy consci- 
ence. In spite of their hostess's refusal to take pay 
from Confederate soldiers. 

"As long as I have a crust In the house," said 
she, "you boys are welcome to It." 

But the pretended Confederates paid her for her 



130 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

kindness in better currency than she was used to. 
They withheld information concerning a proposed 
visit of her husband and son, of which, during one 
spell of loquacity, she acquainted them. The bread 
she cast upon the waters returned to her speedily. 

The two friends parted company, Will returning 
to the Union lines, and Colonel Hickok to the op- 
posing camp. 

A few days later, when the Confederate forces 
were closing up around the Union lines, and a battle 
was at hand, two horsemen were seen to dart out of 
the hostile camp and ride at full speed for the 
Northern lines. For a space the audacity of the 
escape seemed to paralyze the Confederates; but 
presently the bullets followed thick and fast, and 
one of the saddles was empty before the rescue 
party — of which Will was one — got fairly under 
way. As the survivor drew near, Will shouted: 

*^It's Wild Bill, the Union scout.'' 

A cheer greeted the intrepid Colonel Hickok, and 
he rode into camp surrounded by a party of admir- 
ers. The information he brought proved of great 
value in the battle of Pilot Knob (already referred 
to), which almost immediately followed. 



CHAPTER XIV 

A RESCUE AND A BETROTHAL 

After the battle o.f Pilot Knob Will was as- 
signed, through the Influence of General Polk, to 
special service at military headquarters In St. Louis. 
Mrs. Polk had been one of mother's school friends, 
and the two had maintained a correspondence up to 
the time of mother's death. As soon as Mrs. Polk 
learned that the son of her old friend was In the 
Union army, she interested herself In obtaining a 
good position for him. But desk-work Is not a Pony 
Express rush, an.d Will found the St. Louis detail 
about as much to his tast.e as clerking in a dry-goods 
store. His new duties naturally became intolerable, 
lacking the excitement and danger-scent which alone 
made him life worth while to him. 

One event however, relieved the dead-weight 
monotony of his existence; he met Louise Frederlcl, 
the girl who became his wife. The courtship has 
been written far and wide with blood-and thunder 
pen, attended by lariat-throwing and runaway 
steeds. In reality it was a romantic affair. 

More than once, while out for a morning canter. 
Will had remarked a young woman of attractive 
face and figure, who sat her horse with the grace 
of Diana Vernon. Now, few things catch Will's 

131 



1 3 2 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

eye more quickly than fine horsemanship. He de- 
sired to establish an acquaintance with the young 
lady, but as none of his friends knew her, he found 
it Impossible. 

At length a chance came. Her bridle-rein broke 
one morning; there was a runaway, a rescue, and 
then acquaintance was easy. 

From war to love, or from love to war, is but a 
step, and Will lost no time in taking it. He was 
somewhat better than an apprentice to Dan Cupid. 
If the reader remembers, he went to school with 
Steve Gobel. True, his opportunities to enjoy femi- 
nine society had not been many, which, perhaps, ac- 
counts for the promptness with which he embraced 
them when tl;ey did arise. He became the accepted 
suitor of Miss Louise Frederici before the war 
closed and his regiment was mustered out. 

The spring of 1865 found him not yet twenty, 
and he was sensible of the fact that before he could 
dance at his own wedding he must place his worldly 
affairs upon a surer financial basis than falls to the 
lot of a soldier; so, much as he would have enjoyed 
remaining In St. Louis, fortune pointed to wider 
fields, and he set forth In search of remunerative 
and congenial employment. 

First, there was the visit home, where the warm- 
est of welcomes awaited him. During his absence 
the second sister, Eliza, had married a Mr. Myers, 
but the rest of us were at the old place, and the 
eagerness with which we awaited Will's home-com- 
ing was stimulated by the hope that he would re- 
main and take charge of the estate. Before we 
broached this subject, however, he Informed us of 
his engagement to Miss Frederici, which, far from 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 133 

aVakening jealousy, aroused our delight, Julia voic- 
ing the sentiment of the family In the comment: 

"When you're married, Will, you will have to 
stay at home." 

This led to the matter of his remaining with us 
to manage the estate — and to the upsetting of our 
plans. The pay of a soldier in the war was next 
to nothing, and as Will had been unable to put any 
money by, he took the first chance that offered to 
better his fortunes. 

This happened to be a job of driving horses from 
Leavenworth to Fort Kearny, and almost the first 
man he met after reaching the fort was an old plains 
friend. Bill Trotter. 

"You're just the chap Tve been looking for," 
said Trotter, when he learned that Will desired 
regular work. "I'm division station agent here, but 
stage-driving is dangerous work, as the route is in- 
fested with Indians and outlaws. Several drivers 
have been held up and killed lately, so it's not a 
very enticing job, but the pay^s good, and you know 
the country. If any one can take the stage through 
you can. Do you want the job?" 

When a man is in love and the wedding-day has 
been dreamed of, If not set, life takes on an added 
sweetness, and to rtr.ke it against the markmanship 
of Indian or outlaw is not, perhaps, the best use to 
which it may be put. Will had come safely through 
so many perils that it seemed folly to thrust his head 
Into another batch of them, and thinking of Louise 
and the coming wedding-day, his first thought was 
no. 

But It was the old story, and there was Trotter 
at his elbow expressing confidence in his ability as a 



134 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUI'S 

frontiersman — an opinion Will fully shared, for a 
man knows what he can do. The pay was good, and 
the sooner earned the sooner would the wedding be, 
and Trotter received the answer he expected. 

The stage line was another of the Western en- 
terprises projected by Russell, Majors & Waddell. 
When gold was discovered on Pike's Peak there was 
no method of traversing the great Western plain 
except by plodding ox-team, mule-pack, or stage- 
coach. A semi-monthly st;age line ran from St. Jos- 
eph to Salt Lake City, but it was poorly equipped 
and very tedious, oftentimes twenty-one days being 
required to make this trip. The senior member of 
the firm, in partnership with John S. Jones, of Mis- 
souri, established a new line between the Missouri 
River and Denver, at that time a straggling mining 
hamlet. One thousand Kentucky mules were bought, 
with a sufficient number of coaches to insure a daily 
run each way. The trip was made in srx days, 
which necessitated travel at the rate of a hundred 
miles a day. 

The first stage reached Denver on May 17, 1859. 
It was accounted a remarkable achievement, and the 
line was pronounced a great success. In one way it 
was ; but the expense of equipping it had been enor- 
mous, and the new line could ..ot meet its obliga- 
tions. To save the credit of their senior partner, 
Russell, Majors & Waddell were obliged ta come 
to th^ rescue. They bought up all the outstanding 
obligations, and also the rival stage line between 
St. Joseph and Salt Lake City. They consolidated 
the two, and thereby hoped to put the Overland 
stage route on a paying basis. St. Joseph now be- 
came the starting-point of the united lines. From 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 135 

there the. road went to Fort Kearny, and followed 
the old Salt Lake trail, already described in these 
pages. After leaving Salt Lake it passed through 
Camp Floyd, Ruby Valley, Carson City, PJacerville, 
and Folsom, and ended in Sacramento. 

The distance from St. Joseph to Sacramento by 
this old stage route was nearly nineteen hundred 
miles. The time required by mail contracts and the 
government schedule was nineteen days. The trip 
was frequently made in fifteen, but there were so 
many causes for detention that the limit was more 
often reached. 

Each two hundred and fifty miles of road was 
designatd a ^'division," and was in charge of an 
agent, who had great authority In his own jurisdic- 
tion. He was commonly a man of more than ordin- 
ary intelligence, and all matters pertaining to his di- 
vision were entirely under his control. He hired 
and discharged employes, purchased horses, mules, 
harness, and food, and attended to their distribu- 
tion at the different stations. He superintended the 
erection of all buildings, had charge of the water 
supply, and he was the paymaster. 

There was also a man known as the conductor, 
whose route was almost coincident with that of the 
agent. He sat with the driver, and often rode the 
whole two hundred and fifty miles of his division 
without any rest or sleep, except what he could 
catch sitting on the top of the flying coach. 

The coach itself was a roomy, swaying vehicle, 
swung on thoroughbraces instead of springs. It al- 
ways had a six-horse or six-mule team to draw it, 
and the speed was nerve-breaking. Passengers were 
allowed twenty-five pounds of baggage, and that, 



136 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

with the mail, express, and the passengers them- 
selves, was in charge of the conductor. 

The Overland stagecoaches v/ere operated at a 
loss until 1862. In March of that year Russell, 
Majors & Waddell transferred the whole outfit to 
Ben Holliday. Here was a typical frontiersman, of 
great individuality and character. At the time he 
took charge of the route the United States mail was 
given to it. This put the line on a sound financial 
basis, as the government spent $800,000 yearly in 
transporting the mail to San Francisco. 

Will reported for duty the morning after his talk 
with Trotter, and when he mounted after his talk 
and gathered the reins over the six spirited horses, 
the passengers were assured of an expert driver. 

His run was from Fort Kearny to Plum Creek. 
The country was sharply familiar. It was the scene 
of his first encounter with Indians. A long and 
lonely ride it was, and a dismal one when the weath- 
er turned cold; but it meant a hundred and fifty 
dollars a month, and each pay day brought him 
nearer to St. Louis. 

Indian signs there had been right along, but they 
were only signs until one bleak day in November. 
He pulled out of Plum Creek with a sharp warning 
ringing in his ears. Indians were on the war-path, 
and trouble was more likely than not ahead. Lieu- 
tenant Flowers, assistant division agent, was on the 
box with him, and within the coach were six well- 
armed passengers. 

Half the run had been covered, when Will's ex- 
perienced eye detected the promised red men. Be- 
fore him lay a stream which must be forded. The 
creek was densely fringed with underbrush, and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 137 

along this the Indians were skulking, expecting to 
cut the stage off at the only possible crossing. 

Perhaps this Is a good place to say a word con- 
cerning the seemingly extraordinary fortune that has 
stood by Will in his adventures. Not only have his 
own many escapes been of the hairbreadth sort, but 
he has arrived on the scene of danger at just the 
right moment to rescue others from extinction. Of 
course, an element of luck has entered Into these af- 
fairs, but for the most part they simply proved the 
old saying that an ounce of prevention Is better than 
a pound of cure. Will had studied the plains as an 
astronomer studies the heavens. The slightest dis- 
arrangement of the natural order of things caught 
his eye. With the astronomer. It Is a comet or an 
asteroid appearing upon a field whose every object 
has long since been placed and studied; with Will, 
it was a feathered headdress where there should 
have been but tree, or rock, or grass; a moving 
figure where nature should have been Inanimate. 

When seen, those things were calculated as the 
astronomer calculates the motion of the objects that 
he studies. A planet will arrive at a given place at 
a certain time; an Indian will reach a ford In a 
stream In about so many minutes. If there be time 
to cross before him. It is a matter of hard driving; 
if the odds are with the Indian, that is another 
matter. 

A less experienced observer than Will would not 
have seen the skulking redskins; a less skilled fron- 
tiersman would have apprehended their design; a 
less expert driver would not have taken the running 
chance for life ; a less accurate marksman would not 



138 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

have picked off an Indian with a rifle while shooting 
from the top of a swinging, jerking stagecoach. 

Will did not hesitate. A warning shout to the 
passengers, and the whip was laid on, and off went 
the horses full speed. Seeing that they had been 
discovered, the Indians came out into the open, and 
ran their ponies for the ford, but the stage was there 
full five hundred yards before them. It was char- 
acteristic of their driver that the horses were suf- 
fered to pause at the creek long enough to get a 
swallow of water; then, refreshed, they were off at 
full speed again. 

The coach, creaking In every joint, rocked like a 
captive balloon, the unhappy passengers were hurled 
from one side of the vehicle to the other, flung into 
one another's laps, and occasionally, when some un- 
common obstacle sought to check the flying coach, 
their heads collided with Its roof. The Indians 
menaced them without, cracked skulls seemed their 
fate within. 

Will plied the whip relentlessly, and so nobly did 
the powerful horses respond that the Indians gained 
but slowly on them. There were some fifty redskins 
in the band, but Will assumed that If he could reach 
the relay station, the two stock-tenders there, with 
himself. Lieutenant Flowers, and the passengers, 
would be more than a match for the marauders. 

When the pursuers drew within fair rifle range, 
Will handed the reins to the lieutenant, swung round 
In his seat, and fired at the chief. 

"There," shouted one of the passengers, "that 
fellow with the feathers Is shot!" and another fusil- 
lade from the coach Interior drove holes In the air. 

The relay station was now hard by, and attracted 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 139 

by the firing, the stock-tenders came forth to take a 
hand in the engagement. Disheartened by the fall 
of their chief, the Indians weakened at the sign of 
reinforcements, and gave up the pursuit. 

Lieutenant Flowers and two of the passengers 
were wounded, but Will could not repress a smile at 
the excited assurance of one of his fares that they 
(the passengers) had ^'killed one Indian and driven 
the rest back." The stock-tender smiled also, but 
said nothing. It would have been too bad to spoil 
such a good story. 

The gravest fears for the safety of the coach had 
been expressed when it was known that the reds 
were on the war-path; it was not thought possible 
that it could get through unharmed; and troops 
were sent out to scour the country. These, while 
too late to render service in the adventure just re- 
lated, did good work during the remainder of the 
winter. The Indians were thoroughly subdued, and 
Will saw no more of them. 

There was no other adventure of special note 
until February. Just before Will started on his 
run, Trotter took him to one side and advised him 
that a small fortune was going by the coach that 
day, and extra vigilance was urged, as the existence 
of the treasure might have become known. 

*'ril do the best I can," said Will; and he had 
scarcely driven away when he suspected the two ill- 
favored passengers he carried. The sudden calling 
away of the conductor, whereby he was left alone, 
was a suspicious circumstance. He properly de- 
cided that it would be wiser for him to hold up his 
passengers than to let them hold up him, and he 
proceeded to take time by the forelock. He stopped 



I40 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the coach, jumped down, and examined the harness 
as if something was wrong; then he stepped to the 
coach door and asked his passengers to hand him a 
rope that was inside. As they complied, they 
looked into the barrels of two cocked revolvers. 

"Hands up!" said Will. 

^'What's the matter with you!" demanded one of 
the pair, as their arms were raised. 

''Thought rd come in first — that's all," was the 
answer. 

The other was not without appreciation of 
humor. 

"You're a cute one, youngster," said he, "but 
you'll find more'n your match down the road, or I 
miss my guess." 

"I'll look after that when I get to it," said Will. 
"Will you oblige me by tying your friend's hands? 
Thank you. Now throw out your guns. That's 
all? All right. Let me see your hands." 

When both outlaws had been securely trussed up 
and proven to be disarmed, the journey was re- 
sumed. The remark dropped by one of the pair 
was evidence that they were part of a gang. He 
must reach the relay station before the attack. If he 
could do that, he had a plan for farther on. 

The relay station was not far away, and was 
safely reached. The prisoners were turned over to 
the stock-tenders, and then Will disposed of the 
treasure against future molestation. He cut open 
one of the cushions of the coach, taking out part of 
the filling, and in the cavity thus made stored every- 
thing of value, including his own watch and pocket- 
book; then the filling was replaced and the hole 
smoothed to a natural appearance. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 141 

If there were more in the gang, he looked for 
them at the ford where the Indians had sought to 
cut him off, and he was not disappointed. As he 
drew near the growth of willows that bordered the 
road, half a dozen men with menancing rifles step- 
ped out. 

*'Halt, or you're a dead man!" was the conven- 
tional salutation, in this case graciously received. 

"Well, what do you want?" asked Will. 

"The boodle you carry. Fork it over!" 

"Gentlemen," said Will, smiling, "this is a case 
where it takes a thief to catch a thief." 

"What's that?" cried one of the outlaws, his feel- 
ings outraged by the frank description. 

"Not that I'm the thief," continued Will, "but 
your pals were one too many for you this time." 

"Did they rob you?" howled the gang in chorus, 
shocked by such depravity on the part of their com- 
rades. 

"If there's anything left in the coach worth hav- 
ing, don't hesitate to take it," offered Will, pleas- 
antly. 

"Where's your strong-box?" demanded the out- 
laws, loath to believe there was no honor among 
thieves. 

Will drew it forth and exposed its melancholy 
emptiness. The profanity that ensued was positively 
shocking. 

"Where did they hold you up?" demanded the 
leader of the gang. 

"Eight or nine miles back. You'll find some 
straw in the road. You can have that, too." 

"Were there horses to meet them?" 

"On foot the last I saw them." 



142 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Then we can catch 'em boys/' shouted the 
leader, hope upspringing in his breast. "Come, let's 
be off!" 

They started for the willows on the jump, and 
presently returned, spurring their horses. 

"Give them my regards!" shouted Will. But 
only the thud! thud! of horsehoofs answered him. 
Retribution was sweeping like a hawk upon its prey. 

Will pushed along to the end of his run, and 
handed over his trust undisturbed. Fearing that his 
ruse might have been discovered, he put the "extra 
vigilance" urged by Trotter into the return trip, 
but the trail was deserted. He picked up the pris- 
oners at the relay station and carried them to Fort 
Kearny. If their companions were to discover the 
sorry trick played upon them, they would have de- 
manded his life as a sacrifice. 

At the end of this exciting trip he found a letter 
from Miss Frederici awaiting him. She urged him 
to give up the wild life he was leading, return East, 
and find another calling. This was precisely what 
Will himself had in mind, and persuasion was not 
needed. In his reply he asked that the wedding- 
day be set, and then he handed Trotter his resigna- 
tion from the lofty perch of a stage-driver. 

"I don't like to let you go," objected Trotter. 

"But," said Will, "I took the job only in order 
to save enough money to get married on." 

"In that case," said Trotter, "I have nothing to 
do but wish you joy." 



CHAPTER XV 

WILL AS A BENEDICT 

When Will reached home, he found another let- 
ter from Miss Frederlcl, who, agreeably to his re- 
quest, had fixed the wedding-day, March 6, 1866. 

The wedding ceremony was quietly performed at 
the home of the bride, and the large number of 
friends that witnessed it united in declaring that no 
handsomer couple ever bowed for Hymen's bene- 
diction. 

The bridal journey was a trip to Leavenworth on 
a Missouri steamer. At that time there was much 
travel by these boats, and their equipment was first- 
class. They were sumptuously fitted out, the table 
was excellent, and except when sectional animosities 
disturbed the serenity of their decks, a trip on one 
of them was a very pleasant excursion. 

The young benedict soon discovered, however, 
that in war times the "trail of the serpent" is liable 
to be over all things; even a wedding journey is not 
exempt from the baneful Influence of sectional ani- 
mosity. A party of excursionists on board the 
steamer manifested so extreme an interest in the 
bridal couple that Louise retired to a stateroom to 
escape their rudeness. After her withdrawal. Will 

143 



144 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

entered into conversation with a gentleman from 
Indiana, who had been very polite to him, and asked 
him if he knew the reason for the insolence of the 
excursion party. The gentleman hesitated a mo- 
ment, and then answered: *'To tell the truth, Mr. 
Cody, these men are Missourians, and say they 
recognize you as one of Jennison's Jayhawkers; that 
you were an enemy of the South, and are, therefore, 
an enemy of theirs." 

Will answered, steadily: "I was a soldier dur- 
ing the war, and a scout in the Union army, but I 
had some experience of Southern chivalry before 
that time." And he related to the Indianian some 
of the incidents of the early Kansas border warfare, 
in which he and his father had played so prominent 
a part. 

The next day the insolent behavior was con- 
tinued. Will was much inclined to resent it, but his 
wife pleaded so earnestly with him to take no notice 
of it that he ignored it. 

In the afternoon, when the boat landed at a lonely 
spot to v/ood up, the Missourians seemed greatly 
excited, and all gathered on the guards and anxi- 
ously scanned the river-bank. 

The roustabouts were just about to make the boat 
fast, when a party of armed horsemen dashed out of 
the woods and galloped toward the landing. The 
captain thought the boat was to be attacked, and 
hastily gave orders to back out, calling the crew on 
board at the same time. These orders the negroes 
lost no time In obeying, as they often suffered 
severely at the hands of these reckless marauders. 
The leader of the horsemen rode rapidly up, firing 
at random. As he neared the steamer he called 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 145 

out, "Where is that Kansas Jayhawker? We have 
come for him." The other men caught sight of 
Will, and one of them cried, "We know you, BUI 
Cody." But they were too late. Already the 
steamer was backing away from the shore, dragging 
her gang-plank through the water; the negro rous- 
tabouts were too much terrified to pull It in. When 
the attacking party saw their plans were frustrated, 
and that they were balked of their prey, they gave 
vent to their disappointment in yells of rage. A 
random volley was fired at the retreating steamer, 
but it soon got out of range, and continued on Its 
way up the river. 

Will had prepared himself for the worst; he 
stood, revolver in hand, at the head of the steps, 
ready to dispute the way with his foes. 

There was also a party of old soldiers on board, 
six or eight In number; they were dressed in civil- 
ians' garb, and Will knew nothing of them; but 
when they heard of their comrade's predicament, 
they hastily prepared to back up the young scout. 
Happily the danger was averted, and their services 
were not called into requisition. The remainder of 
the trip was made without unpleasant incident. 

It was afterward learned that as soon as the Mis- 
sourlans became aware of the presence of the 
Union scout on board, they telegraphed ahead to 
the James and Younger brothers that Will was 
aboard the boat, and asked to have a party meet it 
at this secluded landing, and capture and carry ofiE 
the young soldier. Will feared that Louise might 
be somewhat disheartened by such an occurrence on 
the bridal trip, but the welcome accorded the young 
couple on their arrival at Leavenworth was flatter- 



146 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

ing enough to make amends for all unpleasant inci- 
dents. The young wife found that her husband 
numbered his friends by the score in his own home, 
and in the grand reception tendered them he was 
the lion of the hour. 

Entreated by Louise to abandon the plains and 
pursue a vocation along more peaceful paths, Will 
conceived the idea of taking up the business in which 
mother had won financial success — that of landlord. 
The house she had built was purchased after her 
death by Dr. Cook, a surgeon in the Seventh Kan- 
sas Regiment. It was now for rent, which fact no 
doubt decided Will in his choice of an occupation. 
It was good to live again under the roof that had 
sheltered his mother in her last days; it was good 
to see the young wife amid the old scenes. So Will 
turned boniface, and invited May and me to make 
our home with him. 

There was a baby in Julia's home, and it had so 
wound itself around May's heartstrings that she 
could not be enticed away; but there was never any- 
body who could supplant Will in my heart; so I 
gladly accepted his invitation. 

Thoreau has somewhere drawn a sympathetic 
portrait of the Landlord, who is supposed to radi- 
ate hospitality as the sun throws off the heat — as its/ 
own reward — and who feeds and lodges men purely 
from a love of the creatures. Yet even such a land- 
lord, if he is to continue long in business, must have 
an eye to profit, and make up in one corner what 
he parts with in another. Now, Will radiated hos- 
pitality, and his reputation as a lover of his fellow- 
man got so widely abroad that travelers without 
money and without price would go miles out of their 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 147 

way to put up at his tavern. Socially, he was an ir- 
reproachable landlord; financially, his shortcomings 
were deplorable. 

And then the life of an innkeeper, while not with- 
out its joys and opportunities to love one's fellow- 
man, is somewhat prosaic, and our guests oftentimes 
remarked an absent, far-away expression in the eyes 
of Landlord Cody. He was thinking of the plains. 
Louise also remarked that expression, and the sym- 
pathy she felt for his yearnings was accentuated by 
an examination of the books of the hostelry at the 
dose of the first six months' business. Half smiling, 
half tearful, she consented to his return to his West- 
ern life. 

Will disposed of the house and settled his affairs, 
and when all the bills were paid, and Sister Lou and 
I cozily ensconced in a little home at Leavenworth, 
we found that Will's generous thought for our com- 
fort through the winter had left him on the beach 
financially. He had planned a freighting trip on his 
own account, but the acquiring of a team, wagon, 
and the rest of the outfit presented a knotty prob- 
lem when he counted over the few dollars left on 
hand. 

For the first time I saw disappointment and dis- 
couragement written on his face, and I was sorely 
distressed, for he had never denied me a desire that 
he could gratify, and it was partly on my account 
that he was not in better financial condition. I was 
not yet sixteen; it would be two years more before 
I could have a say as to the disposition of my own 
money, yet something must be done at once. 

I decided to lay the matter before Lawyer Doug- 
lass. Surely he could suggest some plan whereby I 



148 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

might assist my brother. I had a half-matured plan 
of my own, but I was assured that Will would not 
listen to it. 

Mr. Douglass had been the legal adviser of the 
family since he won our first lawsuit, years before. 
We considered the problem from every side, and the 
lawyer suggested that Mr. Buckley, an old friend of 
the family, had a team and wagon for sale; they 
were strong and serviceable, and just the thing that 
Will would likely want. I was a minor, but if Mr. 
Buckley was willing to accept me as security for the 
property, there would be no difficulty in making the 
transfer. 

Mr. Buckley proved entirely agreeable to the 
proposition. Will could have the outfit in return 
for his note with my indorsement. 

That disposed of, the question of freight to put 
into the wagon arose. I thought of another old 
friend of the family, M. E. Albright, a wholesale 
grocer in Leavenworth. Would he trust Will for a 
load of supplies? He would. 

Thus everything was arranged satisfactorily, and 
I hastened home to not the easiest task — to prevail 
upon Will to accept assistance at the hands of the 
little sister who, not so long ago, had employed his 
aid in the matter of a pair of shoes. 

But Will could really do nothing save accept, and 
proud and happy, he sallied forth one day as an in- 
dividual freighter, though not a very formidable 
rival of Russell, Majors & Waddell. 

Alas for enterprises started on borrowed capital ! 
How many of them end in disaster, leaving their 
projectors not only penniless, but in debt. Our 
young frontiersman, whose life had been spent in 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 149 

protecting the property of others, was powerless to 
save his own. Wagon, horses, and freight were all 
captured by Indians, and their owner barely escaped 
with his life. From a safe covert he watched the 
redskins plunge him Into bankruptcy. It took him 
several years to recover, and he has often remarked 
that the responsibility of his first business venture 
on borrowed capital aged him prematurely. 

The nearest station to the scene of this disaster 
was Junction City, and thither he tramped, in the 
hope of retrieving his fortunes. There he met Col- 
onel HIckok, and in the pleasure of the greeting for- 
got his business ruin for a space. The story of his 
marriage and his stirring adventures as a landlord 
and lover of his fellowman were first to be related, 
and when these were commented upon, and his old 
friend had learned, too, of the wreck of the freight- 
ing enterprise, there came the usual inquiry: 

*'And now, do you know of a job with some 
money In It?" 

"There Isn't exactly a fortune in it," said Wild 
Bill, "but Fm scouting for Uncle Sam at Fort Ells- 
worth. The commandant needs more scouts, and I 
can vouch for you as a good one." 

"All right," said Will, always quick in decision; 
"Fll go along with you, and apply for a job at 
once." 

He was pleased to have Colonel HickoVs recom- 
mendation, but It turned out that he did not need It, 
as his own reputation had preceded him. The com- 
mandant of the fort was glad to add him to the 
force. The territory he had to scout over lay be- 
tween Forts Ellsworth and Fletcher, and he alter- 
nated between those points throughout the winter. 



ISO LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

It was at Fort Fletcher, In the spring of 1867, 
that he fell In v/Ith the dashing General Custer, and 
the friendship established between them was ended 
only by the death of the general at the head of his 
gallant three hundred. 

This spring was an exceedingly wet one, and the 
fort, which lay upon the bank of Big Creek, was so 
damaged by floods that it was abandoned. A new 
fort was erected, some distance to the westward, on 
the south fork of the creek, and was named Fort 
Hayes. 

Returning one day from an extended scouting 
trip. Will discovered signs Indicating that Indians 
in considerable force were In the neighborhood. He 
at once pushed forward at all speed to report the 
news, when a second discovery took the wind out of 
his sails; the hostiles were between him and the fort. 

At that moment a party of horsemen broke into 
view, and seeing they were white men. Will waited 
their approach. The little band proved to be Gen- 
eral Custer and an escort of ten, en route from Fort 
Ellsworth to Fort Hayes. 

Informed by Will that they were cut off by In- 
dians, and that the only hopes of escape lay in a 
rapid flank movement, Custer's reply was a terse : 
*'Lead on, scout, and we'll follow." 

Will wheeled, clapped spurs to his horse, and 
dashed away, with the others close behind. All 
hands were sufliclently versed in Indian warfare to 
appreciate the seriousness of their position. They 
pursued a roundabout trail, and reached the fort 
without seeing a hostile, but learned from the re- 
ports of others that their escape had been a narrow 
one. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 151 

Custer was on his way to Earned, sixty miles 
distant, and he needed a guide. He requested that 
Will be assigned to the position, so pleased was he 
by the service already rendered. 

"The very man I proposed to send with you, 
General," said the commandant, who knew well the 
keen desire of the Indians to get at ''Yellow Hair," 
as they called Custer. "Cody knows this part of the 
country like a book; he is up to all the Indian games, 
and he is as full of resources as a nut is of meat." 

At daybreak the start was made, and it was plan- 
ned to cover the sixty miles before nightfall. Will 
was mounted on a mouse-colored mule, to which he 
was much attached, and in which he had every con- 
fidence. Custer, however, was disposed to regard 
the lowly steed in some disdain. 

"Do you think, Cody, that mule can set the pace 
to reach Earned in a day?" he asked. 

"When you get to Earned, General," smiled Will, 
"the mule and I will be with you." 

Custer said no more for a while, but the pace he 
set was eloquent, and the mouse-colored mule had to 
run under "forced draught" to keep up with the pro- 
cession. It was a killing pace, too, for the horses, 
which did not possess the staying power of the mule. 
Will was half regretting that he had ridden the ani- 
mal, and was wondering how he could crowd on 
another pound or two of steam, when, suddenly 
glancing at Custer, he caught a gleam of mischief in 
the general's eye. Plainly the latter was seeking to 
compel an acknowledgment of error, but Will only 
patted the mouse-colored flanks. 

Fifteen miles were told off; Custer's thorough- 
bred horse was still in fine fettle, but the mule had 



152 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

got the second of its three or four winds, and was 
ready for a century run. 

"Can you push along a little faster, General?" 
asked Will slyly. 

"If that mule of yours can stand it, go ahead," 
was the reply. 

To the general's surprise, the long-eared animal 
did go ahead, and when the party got into the hills, 
and the traveling grew heavy, it set a pace that seri- 
ously annoyed the general's thoroughbred. 

Fifteen miles more were pounded out, and a halt 
was called for luncheon. The horses needed the 
rest, but the mouse-colored mule wore an impatient 
expression. Having got its third wind. It wanted 
to use it. 

"Well, General," said Will, when they swung off 
on the trail again, "what do you think of my 
mount?" 

Custer laughed. "It's not very handsome," said 
he, "but it seems to know what it's about, and so 
does the rider. You're a fine guide, Cody. Like 
the Indian, you seem to go by instinct, rather than 
by trails and landmarks." 

The praise of Custer was sweeter to the young 
scout than that of any other officer on the plains 
would have been. 

At just four o'clock the mouse-colored mule jog- 
ged Into Fort Lamed and waved a triumphant pair 
of ears. A short distance behind rode Custer, on a 
thoroughly tired thoroughbred, while the escort was 
strung along the trail for a mile back. 

"Cody," laughed the general, "that remarkable 
quadruped of yours looks equal to a return trip. Our 
horses are pretty well fagged out, but we have made 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 153 

a quick trip and a good one. You brought us 'cross 
country straight as the crow flies, and that's the sort 
of service I appreciate. Any time you're in need of 
work, report to me. I'll see that you're kept busy. 

It was Custer's intention to remain at Fort Ear- 
ned for some time, and Will, knowing that he was 
needed at Hayes, tarried only for supper and a short 
rest before starting back. 

When night fell, he proceeded warily. On the 
way out he had directed Custer's attention to signs 
denoting the near-by presence of a small band of 
mounted Indians. 

Suddenly a distant light flashed into view, but be- 
fore he could check his mule it had vanished. He 
rode back a few paces, and the light reappeared. 
Evidently it was visible through some narrow space, 
and the matter called for investigation. Will dis- 
mounted, hitched his mule, and went forward. 

After he had covered half a mile, he found him- 
self between two sandhills, the pass leading into a 
little hollow, within which were a large number of 
Indians camped around the fire whose light he had 
followed. The ponies were in the background. 

Will's position was somewhat ticklish, as, with- 
out a doubt, an Indian sentinel was posted in the 
pass ; yet It was his duty, as he understood It, to ob- 
tain a measurably accurate estimate of the number 
of warriors in the band. Himself a very Indian in 
stealth, he drew nearer the camp-fire, when suddenly 
there rang out upon the night air — not a rifle-shot, 
but the unearthly braying of his mule. 

Even in the daylight, amid scenes of peace and 
tranquillity, the voice of a mule falls short of the 
not enchanting music of the bagpipe. At night in 



154 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the wilderness, when every nerve is keyed up to the 
snapping-point, the sound is simply appalling. 

Will was startled, naturally, but the Indians were 
thrown into dire confusion. They smothered the 
camp-fire and scattered for cover, while a sentinel 
sprang up from behind a rock not twenty feet from 
Will, and was off like a deer. 

The scout held his ground till he had made a 
good guess at the number of Indians In the party; 
then he ran for his mule, whose voice, raised in 
seeming protest, guided him unerringly. 

As he neared the animal he saw that two 
mounted Indians had laid hold of it, and were trying 
to induce it to follow them; but the mule, true to 
tradition and its master, stubbornly refused to 
budge a foot. 

It was a comical tableau, but Will realized that it 
was but a step from farce to tragedy. A rifle-shot 
dropped one of the Indians, and the other darted off 
into the darkness. 

Another bray from the mule, this time a paean of 
triumph, as Will jumped into the saddle, with an 
arrow from the bow of the wounded Indian through 
his coat-sleeve. He declined to return the fire of 
the wounded wretch, and rode away into the timber, 
while all around the sound of Indians in pursuit 
came to his ears. 

*'Now, my mouse-colored friend," said Will, "if 
you win this race your name Is Custer." 

The mule seemed to understand; at all events. It 
settled down to work that combined the speed of a 
racer with the endurance of a buffalo. The Indians 
shortly abandoned the pursuit, as they could not see 
their game. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 155 

Will reached Fort Hayes in the early morning, to 
report the safe arrival of Custer at Earned and the 
discovery of the Indian band, which he estimated at 
two hundred braves. The mule received "honor- 
able mention" In his report, and was brevetted a 
thoroughbred. 

The colonel prepared to dispatch troops against 
the Indians, and requested Will to guide the expe- 
dition, If he were sufficiently rested, adding, with a 
smile : 

"You may ride your mule if you like.'* 

"No, thank you," laughed Will. "It isn't safe, 
sir, to hunt Indians with an animal that carries a 
brass-band attachment." 

Captain George A. Armes, of the Tenth Cavalry, 
was to command the expedition, which comprised a 
troop of colored cavalry and a howitzer. As the 
command lined up for the start, a courier on a foam- 
splashed horse rode up with the news that the work- 
men on the Kansas Pacific Railroad had been at- 
tacked by Indians, six of them killed, and over a 
hundred horses and mules and a quantity of stores 
stolen. 

The troops rode away, the colored boys panting 
for a chance at the redskins, and Captain Armes 
more than willing to gratify them. 

At nightfall the command made camp near the Sa- 
line River, at which point it was expected to find 
the Indians. Before dawn they were in the saddle 
again, riding straight across country, regardless of 
trails, until the river was come up with. 

Will's judgment was again verified by the dis- 
covery of a large camp of hostiles on the opposite 
bank of the stream. The warriors v/ere as quick of 



156 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

eye, and as they greatly outnumbered the soldiers, 
and were emboldened by the success of their late 
exploit, they did not wait the attack, but came charg- 
ing across the river. 

They were nearly a mile distant, and Captain 
Armies had time to plant the howitzer on a little rise 
of ground. Twenty men were left to handle It. The 
rest of the command advanced to the combat. 

They were just at the point of attack when a 
fierce yelling was heard in the rear, and the captain 
discovered that his retreat to the gun was cut off by 
another band of reds, and that he was between two 
fires. His only course was to repulse the enemy in 
front. If this were done, and the colored gunners 
did not flee before the overwhelming numbers, he 
might unite his forces by another charge. 

The warriors came on with their usual impetu- 
osity, whooping and screaming, but they met such a 
raking fire from the disciplined troops that they fell 
back in disorder. Just then the men at the howitzer 
opened fire. The effect of this field-piece on the 
children of the plains was magical — almost ludicr- 
ous. A veritable stampede followed. 

"Follow me!" shouted Captain Armes, galloping 
in pursuit; but in their eagerness to give chase the 
troops fell into such disorder that a bugle-blast re- 
called them before any further damage was done the 
flying foe. The Indians kept right along, however; 
they were pretty badly frightened. 

Captain Armes was somewhat chagrined that he 
had no prisoners, but there was consolation In taking 
back nearly all the horses that had been stolen. 
These were found picketed at the camp across the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 157 

river, Vv^here likely they had been forgotten by the 
Indians in their flight. 

Shortly after this, Will tried his hand at land 
speculation. During one of his scouting trips to 
Fort Harker, he visited Ellsworth, a new settle- 
ment, three miles from the fort. There he met a 
man named Rose, who had a grading contract for 
the Kansas Pacific Railroad, near Fort Hayes. Rose 
had bought land at a point through which the rail- 
road was to run, and proposed staking it out as a 
town, but he needed a partner in the enterprise. 

The site was a good one. Big Creek was hard 
by, and it was near enough to the fort to afford 
settlers reasonable security against Indian raids. 
Will regarded the enterprise favorably. Besides the 
money sent home each month, he had put by a small 
sum, and this he invested in the partnership with 
Rose. 

The town site was surveyed and staked off into 
lots; a cabin was erected, and stocked with such 
goods as are needed on the frontier, and the bud- 
ding metropolis was weighted with the classic name 
of Rome. 

As an encouragement to settlers, a lot was offered 
to any one that would agree to erect a building. 
The proprietors, of course, reserved the choicest 
lots. 

Rome boomed. Two hundred cabins went up In 
less than sixty days. Mr. Rose and Will shook 
hands and complimented each other on their pene- 
tration and business sagacity. They were coming 
millionarles, they said. Alas! they v/ere but babes 
in the woods. 

One day Dr. W. E. Webb alighted in Rome. He 



158 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

was a gentleman of most amiable exterior, and when 
he entered the store of Rose & Cody they prepared 
to dispose of a large bill of goods. But Dr. Webb 
was not buying groceries. He chatted a while about 
the weather and Rome, and then suggested that the 
firm needed a third partner. But this was the last 
thing the prospective millionaires had in mind, and 
the suggestion of their visitor was mildly but firmly 
waived. 

Dr. Webb was not a gentleman to insist upon a 
suggestion. He was locating towns for the Kansas 
Pacific Railroad, he said, and as Rome was well 
started, he disliked to interfere with it; but, really, 
the company must have a show. 

Neither Mr. Rose nor Will had had experience 
with the power of a big corporation, and satisfied 
that they had the only good site for a town in that 
vicinity, they declared that the railroad could not 
help itself. 

Dr. Webb smiled pleasantly, and not without 
compassion. **Look out for yourselves," said he, as 
he took his leave. 

And within sight of Rome he located a new 
town. The citizens of Rome were given to under- 
stand that the railroad shops would be built at the 
new settlement, and that there was really nothing to 
prevent it becoming the metropolis of Kansas. 

Rome became a wilderness. Its citizens stam- 
peded to the new town, and Mr. Rose and Will re- 
vised their estimate of their penetration and busi- 
ness sagacity. 

Meantime, the home in Leavenworth had been 
gladdened by the birth of a little daughter, whom 
her father named Arta. As it was impossible for 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 159 

Will to return for some months, it was planned that 
the mother, the baby, and I should make a visit to 
the St. Louis home. This was accomplished safely; 
and while the grandparents were enraptured with 
the baby, I was enjoying the delight of a first visit to 
a large city. 

While the new town of Rome was regarded as 
an assured success by Will, he had journeyed to St. 
Louis after his wife and little one. They proceeded 
with him to the cozy cabin home he had fitted up, 
while I went back to Leavenworth. 

After the fall of Rome the little frontier home 
was no longer the desirable residence that Will's 
dream had pictured it, and as Rome passed into 
oblivion the little family returned to St. Louis. 



CHAPTER XVI 

HOW THE SOBRIQUET OF ^BUFFALO BILL'' WAS WON 

In frontier days a man had but to ask for work 
to get it. There was enough and to spare for every 
one. The work that paid best was the kind that 
suited Will, it mattered not how hard or dangerous 
it might be. 

At the time Rome fell, the work on the Kansas 
Pacific Railroad was pushing forward at a rapid 
rate, and the junior member of the once prosperous 
firm of Rose & Cody saw a new field of activity 
open for him — that of buffalo-hunting. Twelve 
hundred men were employed on the railroad con- 
struction, and Goddard Brothers, who had under- 
taken to board the vast crew, were hard pressed to 
obtain fresh meat. To supply this indispensable, 
buffalo-hunters were employed, and as Will was 
known to be an expert buffalo-slayer, Goddard Bro- 
thers were glad to add him to their "commissary 
staff." His contract with them called for an aver- 
age of tv/elve buffaloes daily, for which he was to 
receive five hundred dollars a month. It was "good 
pay," the desired feature, but the work was hard and 
hazardous. He must first scour the country for his 

160 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS i6i 

game, with a good prospect always of finding In- 
dians instead of buffalo; then, when the game was 
shot, he must oversee its cutting and dressing, and 
look after the wagons that transported it to the 
camp where the workmen messed. It was while 
working under this contract that he acquired the 
sobriquet of "Buffalo Bill." It clung to him ever 
after, and he wore it with more pride than he would 
have done the title of prince or grand duke. Prob- 
ably there are thousands of people to-day who know 
him by that name only. 

At the outset he procured a trained buffalo-hunt- 
ing horse, which went by the unconventional name 
of "Brigham," and from the government he ob- 
tained an improved breech-loading needle-gun, 
which. In testimony of its murderous qualities, he 
named ^'Lucretia Borgia." 

Buffaloes were usually plentiful enough, but there 
were times when the camp supply of meat ran short. 
During one of these dull spells, when the company 
was pressed for horses, Brigham was hitched to a 
scraper. One can imagine his indignation. A racer 
dragging a street-car would have no more just cause 
for rebellion than a buffalo-hunter tied to a work 
Implement In the company of stupid horses that 
never had a thought above a plow, a hay-rake, or 
a scraper. BrIgham expostulated, and In such plain 
language, that Will, laughing, was on the point of 
unhitching him., when a cry went up — the equivalent 
of a whaler's: "There she blows!" — that a herd of 
buffaloes was coming over the hill. 

Brigham and the scraper parted company in- 
stantly, and Will mounted him bareback, the saddle 
being at the camp, a mile away. Shouting an order 



1 62 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

to the men to follow him with a wagon to take back 
the meat, he galloped toward the game. 

There were other hunters that day. Five officers 
rode out from the neighboring fort, and joined Will 
while waiting for the buffaloes to come up. They 
were recent arrivals in that part of the country, and 
their shoulder-straps indicated that one was a cap- 
tain and the others were lieutenants. They did not 
know ^'Buffalo Bill.'' They saw nothing but a good- 
looking young fellow, in the dress of a working man, 
astride a not handsome horse, which had a blind 
bridle and no saddle. It was not a formidable- 
looking hunting outfit, and the captain was disposed 
to be a trifle patronizing. 

*'Hello!" he called out. "I see youVe after the 
same game we are." 

"Yes, sir," returned Will. "Our camp's out of 
fresh meat." 

The officer ran a critical eye over Brigham. "Do 
you expect to run down a buffalo with a horse like 
that?" said he. 

"Why," said Will innocently, "are buffaloes 
pretty speedy?" 

"Speedy? It takes a fast horse to overhaul those 
animals on the open prairie." 

"Does it?" said Will; and the officer did not see| 
the twinkle in his eye. Nothing amuses a man more 
than to be instructed on a matter that he knows 
thoroughly, and concerning which his instructor 
knows nothing. Probably every one of the officers 
had yet to shoot his first buffalo. 

"Come along with us," offered the captain graci- 
ously. "We're going to kill a few for sport, and all 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 163 

we care for are the tongues and a chuck of the tend- 
erloin; you can have the rest. 

"Thank you/' said Will. "I'll follow along." 

There were eleven buffaloes in the herd, and the 
officers started after them as if they had a sure 
thing on the entire number. Will noticed that the 
game was pointed toward a creek, and understand- 
ing "the nature of the beast," started for the water, 
to head them off. 

As the herd went past him, with the military quin- 
tet five hundred yards in the rear, he gave Brig- 
ham's blind bridle a twitch, and in a few jumps the 
trained hunter was at the side of the rear buffalo; 
Lucretia Borgia spoke, and the buffalo fell dead. 
Without even a bridle signal, Brigham was promptly 
at the side of the next buffalo, not ten feet away, 
and this, too, fell at the first shot. The maneuver 
was repeated until the last buffalo went down. 
Twelve shots had been fired; then Brigham, who 
never wasted his strength, stopped. The officers 
had not had even a shot at the game. Astonish- 
ment was written on their faces as they rode up. 

"Gentlemen," said Will, courteously, as he dis- 
mounted, "allow me to present you with eleven 
tongues and as much of the tenderloin as you wish." 

"By Jove !" exclaimed the captain, "I never saw 
anything like that before. Who are you, anyway?" 

"Bill Cody's my name." 

"Well, Bill Cody, you know how to kill buffalo, 
and that horse of yours has some good running 
points, after all." 

"One or two," smiled Will. 

Captain Graham — as his name proved to be — 
and his companions were a trifle sore over missing 



1 64 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

even the opportunity of a shot, but they professed 
to be more than repaid for their disappointment by 
witnessing a feat they had not supposed possible in 
a white man — hunting buffalo without a saddle, 
bridle, or reins. Will explained that Brigham 
knew more about the business than most two-legged 
hunters. All the rider was expected to do was to 
shoot the buffalo. If the first shot failed, Brigham 
allowed another; if this, too, failed Brigham lost 
patience, and was as likely as not to drop the mat- 
ter then and there. 

It was this episode that fastened the name of 
''Buffalo Bill" upon Will, and learning of It, the 
friends of Billy Comstock, chief of scouts at Fort 
Wallace, filed a protest. Comstock, they said, was 
Cody's superior as a buffalo-hunter. So a match 
was arranged to determine whether It should be 
^'Buffalo Bill' Cody or "Buffalo Bill" Comstock. 

The hunting-ground was fixed near Sheridan, 
Kansas, and quite a crowd of spectators was at- 
tracted by the news of the contest. Officers, soldiers, 
plainsmen, and railroadmen took a day off to see 
the sport, and one excursion party, including many 
ladies, among them Louise, came up from St. Louis. 

Referees were appointed to follow each man and 
keep a tally of the buffaloes slain. Comstock was 
^mounted on his favorite horse, and carried a Henry 
rifle of large calibre. Brigham and Lucretia went 
with Will. The two hunters rode side by side until 
the first herd was sighted and the word given, when 
off they dashed to the attack, separating to the 
right and left. In this first trial Will killed thirty- 
eight and Comstock twenty-three. They had ridden 
miles, and the carcasses of the dead buffaloes were 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 165 

strung all over the prairie. Luncheon was served 
at noon, and scarcely was it over when another herd 
was sighted, composed mainly of cows with their 
calves. The damage to this herd was eighteen and 
fourteen, in favor of Cody. 

In those days the prairies were alive with buffa- 
loes, and a third herd put in an appearance before 
the rifle-barrels were cooled. In order to give Brig- 
ham a share of the glory. Will pulled off saddle and 
bridle, and advanced bareback to the slaughter. 

That closed the contest. Score, sixty-nine to 
forty-eight. Comstock's friends surrendered, and 
Cody was dubbed "Champion Buffalo Hunter of the 
Plains." 

The heads of the buffaloes that fell in this hunt 
were mounted by the Kansas Pacific Railroad Com- 
pany, and distributed about the country, as adver- 
tisements of the region the new road was traversing. 
Meanwhile, Will continued hunting for the Kansas 
Pacific contractors, and during the year and a half 
that he supplied them with fresh meat he killed four 
thousand two hundred and eighty buffaloes. But 
when the railroad reached Sheridan it was decided 
to build no farther at that time, and Will was 
obliged to look for other work. 

The Indians had again become so troublesome 
that a general war threatened all along the border, 
and General P. H. Sheridan came West to person- 
ally direct operations. He took up his quarters at 
Fort Leavenworth, but the Indian depredations be- 
coming more widespread, he transferred his quar- 
ters to Fort Hayes, then the terminus of the Kansas 
Pacific Railroad. Will was then in the employ of 
the quartermaster's department at Fort Earned, but 



1 66 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

was sent with an important dispatch to General 
Sheridan announcing that the Indians near Earned 
were preparing to decamp. The distance between 
Earned and Hayes was sixty-five miles, through a 
section infested with Indians, but Will tackled it, 
and reached the commanding General without mis- 
hap. 

Shortly afterward It became necessary to send dis- 
patches from Fort Hayes to Fort Dodge. Ninety- 
five miles of country lay between, and every mile of 
it was dangerous ground. Fort Dodge was sur- 
rounded by Indians, and three scouts had lately been 
killed while trying to get dispatches through, but 
Will's confidence in himself or his destiny was un- 
shakable, and he volunteered to take the dispatches, 
as far, at least, as the Indians would let him. 

"It is a dangerous undertaking," said General 
Sheridan, ''but it is most important that the dis- 
patches should go through; so, if you are willing to 
risk it, take the best horse you can find, and the 
sooner you start the better." 

Within an hour the scout was in the saddle. At 
the outset Will permitted his horse to set his own 
pace, for in case of pursuit he should want the ani- 
mal fresh enough to at least hold his own. But no 
pursuit materialized, and when the dawn came up 
he had covered seventy miles, and reached a station 
on Coon Creek, manned by colored troops. Here 
he dehvered a letter to Major Cox, the officer in 
command, and after eating breakfast, took a fresh 
horse, and resumed his journey before the sun was 
above the plain. 

Fort Dodge was reached, the dispatches delivered 
by nine o'clock, and Will turned in for a needed 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 167 

sleep. When he awoke, he was assured by John 
Austin, chief of the scouts at Dodge, that his com- 
ing through unharmed from Fort Hayes was little 
short of a miracle. He was also assured that a 
journey to his own headquarters, Fort Larned, 
would be even more ticklish than his late ride, as 
the hostiles were especially thick in that direction. 
But the officer In command at Dodge desired to send 
dispatches to Larned, and as none of the other 
scouts were willing to take them, Will volunteered 
his services. 

"Larned's my headquarters," said he, *'and I 
must go there anyway; so If you'll give me a good 
horse. Til take your dispatches." 

"We haven't a decent horse left," said the officer; 
"but you can take your pick of some fine govern- 
ment mules." 

Will made a gesture of despair. Another race 
on mule-back with Indians was not an inviting pros- 
pect. There were very few mules like unto his quon- 
dam mouse-colored mount. But he succumbed to 
the Inevitable, picked out the most enterprising look- 
ing mule In the bunch, and set forth. And neither 
he nor the mule guessed what was In store for each 
of them. 

At Coon Creek Will dismounted for a drink of 
water, and the mule embraced the opportunity to 
pull away, and start alone on the wagon-trail to 
Larned. Will did not suspect that he sl^ould have 
any trouble In overtaking the capricious beast, but 
at the end of a mile he was somewhat concerned. 
He had threatened and entreated, raged and cajoled. 
'Twas all wasted. The mule was as deaf to prayer 
as to objurgation. It browsed contentedly along the 



1 68 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

even tenor of its way, so near and yet so far from 
the young man, who, like "panting time, toil'd after 
it in vain.'' And Earned much more than twenty 
miles away. 

What the poet calls "the golden exhalations of 
the dawn'' began to warm the gray of the plain. 
The sun was in the roots of the grass. Four miles 
away the lights of Earned twinkled. The only blot 
on a fair landscape was the mule — in the middle 
distance. But there was a wicked gleam in the eye 
of the footsore young man in the foreground. 

Boom! The sunrise gun at the fort. The mule 
threw back its head, waved its ears, and poured 
forth a song of triumph, a loud, exultant bray. 

Crack! Will's rifle. Down went the mule. It 
had made the fatal mistake of gloating over its vil- 
lainy. Never again would it jeopardize the life of 
a rider. 

It had been a thirty-five mile walk, and every bone 
in Will's body ached. His shot alarmed the garri- 
son, but he was soon on the ground with the expla- 
nation; and after turning over his dispatches, he 
sought his bed. 

During the day General Hazen returned, under 
escort, from Fort Harker, with dispatches for 
Sheridan, and Will offered to be the bearer of them. 
An army mule was suggested, but he declined to 
again put his life in the keeping of such an animal. 
A good horse was selected, and the journey made 
without incident. 

General Sheridan was roused at daylight to re- 
ceive the scout's report, and praised Will warmly 
for having undertaken and safely accomplished 
three such long and dangerous rides. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 169 



* In all," says General Sheridan, in his Memoirs, 
"Cody rode three hundred and fifty miles in less 
than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endur- 
ance and courage was more than enough to convince 
me that his services would be extremely valuable in 
the campaign; so I retained him at Fort Hayes until 
the battalion of Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then 
made him chief of scouts for that regiment." 



CHAPTER XVII 

SATANTA, CHIEF OF THE KIOWAS 

Within plain view of Fort Larned lay a large 
camp of Kiowas and Comanches. They were not yet 
bedaubed with war paint, but they were as restless 
as panthers in a cage, and it was only a matter of 
days when they would whoop and howl with the 
loudest. 

The principal chief of the Yiowas was Satanta, 
a powerful and resourceful warrior, who, because of 
remarkable talents for speech-making, was called 
"The Orator of the Plains." Satanta was short 
and bullet-headed. Hatred for the whites swelled 
every square inch of his breast, but he had the deep 
cunning of his people, with some especially fine 
points of treachery learned from dealings with dis- 
honest agents and traders. There probably never 
was an Indian so depraved that he could not be cor- 
rupted further by association with a rascally white 
man. 

When the Kiowas were friendly with the govern- 
ment, Satanta received a guest with all the magni- 
ficence the tribe afforded. A carpet was spread for 
the white man to sit upon, and a folding board was 
set up for a table. The question of expense never 
intruded. 

170 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 171 

Individually, too, Satanta put on a great deal of 
style. Had the opportunity come to him, he would 
have worn a silk hat with a sack-coat, or a dress suit 
in the afternoon. As it was, he produced some 
startling effects with blankets and feathers. 

It was part of General Hazen's mission to Fort 
Larned to patch up a treaty with the outraged Kio- 
was and Comanches, if it could be brought about. 
On one warm August morning, the general set out 
for Fort Zarah, on a tour of inspection. Zarah was 
on the Arkansas, in what is now Baton County, Kan- 
sas. An early start was made, as it was desired to 
cover the thirty miles by noon. The general rode 
in a four-mule army ambulance, with an escort of 
ten foot soldiers, in a four-mule escort wagon. 

After dinner at Zarah the general went on to Fort 
Harker, leaving orders for the scout and soldiers to 
return to Larned on the following day. But as 
there was nothing to do at Fort Zarah, Will deter- 
mined to return at once; so he trimmed the sails of 
his mule-ship, and squared away for Larned. 

The first half of the journey was without incident, 
but when Pawnee Rock was reached, events began to 
crowd one another. Some forty Indians rode out 
from behind the rock and surrounded the scout. 

"How? How?" they cried, as they drew near, 
and offered their hands for the white man's saluta- 
tion. 

The braves were in war paint, and intended mis- 
chief; but there was nothing to be lost by returning 
their greeting, so Will extended his hand. 

One warrior seized It and gave It a violent jerk; 
another caught the mule's bridle; a third pulled the 
revolvers from the holsters; a fourth snatched the 



172 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

rifle from across the saddle; while a fifth, for a cli- 
max, dealt Will a blow on the head with a toma- 
hawk that nearly stunned him. 

Then the band started for the Arkansas River, 
lashing the mule, singing, yelling, and whooping. 
For one supposed to be stolid and taciturn, the In- 
dian makes a good deal of noise at times. 

Across the river was a vast throng of warriors, 
who had finally decided to go on the war-path. Will 
and his captors forded the shallow stream, and the 
prisoner was conducted before the chiefs of the 
tribe, with some of whom he was acquainted. 

His head throbbed from the tomahawking, but 
his wits were still in working order, and when asked 
by Satanta where he had been, he replied that he 
had been out searching for "whoa-haws." 

He knew that the Indians had been promised a 
herd of "whoa-haws," as they termed cattle, and he 
knew, too, that the herd had not arrived, and that 
the Indians had been out of meat for several weeks; 
hence he hoped to enlist S^tanta's sympathetic 
interest. 

He succeeded. Satanta was vastly interested. 
Where were the cattle? Oh, a few miles back. 
Will had been sent forward to notify the Indians 
that an army of sirloin steaks was advancing uponj 
them. 

Satanta was much pleased, and the other chiefs 
were likewise interested. Did General Hazen say 
the cattle were for them ? Was there a chance that 
the scout was mistaken? 

Not a chance; and with becoming dignity Will de- 
manded a reason for the rough treatment he had 
received. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 173 

Oh, that was all a joke, Satanta explained. The 
Indians who had captured the white chief were 
young and frisky. They wished to see whether he 
was brave. They were simply testing him. It was 
sport — just a joke. 

Will did not offer to argue the matter. No doubt 
an excellent test of a man's courage Is to hit him 
over the head with a tomahawk. If he lives through 
it, he is brave as Agamemnon. But Will insisted 
mildly that it was a rough way to treat friends; 
whereupon Satanta read the riot act to his hlgh- 
splrlted young men, and bade them return the cap- 
tured weapons to the scout. 

The next question was, were there soldiers with 
the cattle? Certainly, replied Will; a large party of 
soldiers were escorting the succulent sirloins. This 
intelligence necessitated another consultation. Evi- 
dently hostilities must be postponed until after the 
cattle had arrived. Would Will drive the cattle to 
them? He would be delighted to. Did he desire 
that the chief's young men should accompany him? 
No, indeed. The soldiers, also, were high-spirited, 
and they might test the bravery of the chief's young 
men by shooting large holes in them. It would be 
much better if the scout returned alone. 

Satanta agreed with him, and Will recrossed the 
river without molestation; but, glancing over his 
shoulder, he noted a party of ten or fifteen young 
braves slowly following him. Satanta was an ex- 
tremely cautions chieftain. 

Will rode leisurely up the gentle slope of the 
river's bank, but when he had put the ridge between 
him and the Indian camp he pointed his mule west- 
ward, toward Fort Earned, and set it going at its 



174 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

best pace. When the Indians reached the top of 
the ridge, from where they could scan the valley, in 
which the advancing cattle were supposed to be, 
there was not a horn to be seen, and the scout was 
flying in an opposite direction. 

They gave chase, but the mule had a good start, 
and when it got its second wind — always necessary 
in a mule — the Indian ponies gained but slowly. 
When Ash Creek, six miles from Larned, was 
reached, the race was about even, but two miles 
farther on, the Indians were uncomfortably close 
behind. The sunset gun at the fort boomed a syni- 
cal welcome to the man four miles away, flying 
toward it for his life. 

At Pawnee Fork, two miles from the fort, the In- 
dians had crept up to within five hundred yards. 
But here, on the farther bank of the stream. Will 
came upon a government wagon containing half a 
dozen soldiers and Denver Jim, a well-known scout. 

The team was driven among the trees, and the 
men hid thiemselves in the bushes, and when the In- 
dians came along they were warmly received. Two 
of the reds were killed; the others wheeled and rode 
back in safety. 

In 1868 General Sheridan had taken command of 
all the troops in the field. He arranged what is 
known as the winter expeditions against the Kiowas, 
Comanches, Southern Cheyennes, and Arapahoes. 
He personally commanded the expedition which left 
Fort Dodge, with General Custer as chief of cav- 
alry. General Penrose started for Fort Lyon, Colo- 
rado, and General Eugene A. Carr was ordered 
from the RepubHcan River country, with the Fifth 
Cavalry, to Fort Wallace, Kansas. Will at this 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 175 

time had a company of forty scouts with General 
Carr's command. He was ordered by General 
Sheridan, when leaving Fort Lyon, to follow the 
trail of General Penrose's command until it was 
overtaken. General Carr was to proceed to Fort 
Lyon, and follow on the trail of General Penrose, 
who had started from there three weeks before, 
when, as Carr ranked Penrose, he would take com- 
mand of both expeditions. It was the 21st of No- 
vember when Carr's expedition left Fort Lyon. The 
second day out they encountered a terrible snow- 
storm and blizzard in a place they christened 
**Frecze Out Canon," by which name it is still 
known. As Penrose had only a pack-train and no 
heavy wagons, and the ground was covered with 
snow, it was a very difficult matter to follow his 
trail. But taking his general course, they finally 
came up with him on the south fork of the Canadian 
River, where they found him and his soldiers in a 
sorry plight, subsisting wholly on buffalo-meat. 
Their animals had all frozen to death. 

General Carr made what is known as a supply 
camp, leaving Penrose's command and some of his 
own disabled stock therein. Taking with him the 
Fifth Cavalry and the best horses and pack-mules, 
he started south toward the main fork of the Cana- 
dian Riv^r, looking for the Indians. He was gone 
from the supply camp thirty days, but could not lo- 
cate the main band of Indians, as they were farther 
to the east, where General Sheridan had located 
them, and had sent General Custer in to fight them, 
which he did, in what is known as the great battle of 
Wichita. 



176 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

They had a very severe winter, and returned in 
March to Fort Lyon, Colorado. 

In the spring of 1869, the Fifth Cavalry, ordered 
to the Department of the Platte, took up the line 
of march for Fort McPherson, Nebraska. 

It was a large command, including seventy-six 
wagons for stores, ambulance wagons, and pack- 
mules. Those chief In authority were Colonel 
Royal (afterward superseded by General Carr), 
Major Brown, and Captain Sweetman. 

The average distance covered daily was only ten 
miles, and when the troops reached the Solomon 
River there was no fresh meat in camp. Colonel 
Royal asked Will to look up some game. 

*'A11 right, sir," said Will. "Will you send a 
couple of wagons along to fetch in the meat?" 

"We'll send for the game, Cody, when there's 
some game to send for," curtly replied the colonel. 

That settled the matter, surely, and Will rode 
away, a trifle ruffled in temper. 

He was not long in rounding up a herd of seven 
buffaloes, and he headed them straight for camp. 
As he drew near the lines, he rode alongside his 
game, and brought down one after another, until 
only an old bull remained. This he killed in almost 
the center of the camp. 

The charge of the buffaloes had nearly stam- 
peded the picketed horses, and Colonel Royal, who, 
with the other officers, had watched the hunt, de- 
manded, somev/hat angrily : 

"What does this mean, Cody?" 

"Wh}^" said Will, "I thought, sir, I'd save you 
the trouble of sending after the game." 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 177 

The colonel smiled, though perhaps the other 
officers enjoyed the joke more than he. 

At the north fork of the Beaver, Will discovered 
a large and fresh Indian trail. The tracks were 
scattered all over the valley, showing that a large 
village had recently passed that way. Will esti- 
mated that at least four hundred lodges were repre- 
sented; that would mean from twenty-five hundred 
to three thousand warriors, squaws, and children. 

When General Carr (who had taken the com- 
mand) got the news, he followed down a ravine to 
Beaver Creek, and here the regiment went into 
camp. Lieutenant Ward and a dozen men were de- 
tailed to accompany Will on a reconnoissance. They 
followed Beaver Creek for twelve miles, and then 
the lieutenant and the scout climbed a knoll for a 
survey of the country. One glance took in a large 
Indian village some three miles distant. Thousands 
of ponies were picketed out, and small bands of war- 
riors were seen returning from the hunt, laden with 
buffalo-meat. 

"I think, Lieutenant,'* said Will, "that we have 
important business at camp.*' 

"I agree with you," said Ward. "The quicker 
we get out of here, the better." 

When they rejoined the men at the foot of the 
hill, Ward dispatched a courier to General Carr, the 
purpose of the lieutenant being to follow slowly and 
meet the troops which he knew would be sent for- 
ward. 

The courier rode away at a gallop, but in a few 
moments came riding back, with three Indians at his 
horse's heels. The little company charged the war- 
riors, who turned and fled for the village. 



178 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Lieutenant," said Will, "give me that note." 
And as it was passed over, he clapped spurs to his 
horse and started for the camp. 

He had proceeded but a short distance when he 
came upon another party of Indians, returning to 
the village with buffalo-meat. Without stopping, he 
fired a long-range shot at them, and while they hesi- 
tated, puzzled by the action, he galloped past. The 
warriors were not long in recovering from their sur- 
prise, and cutting loose their meat, followed; but 
their ponies were tired from a long hunt, and Will's 
fresh horse ran away from them. 

When General Carr received the lieutenant's dis- 
patch, he ordered the bughler to sound the inspiring 
"Boots and Saddles," and, while two companies re- 
mained to guard the wagons, the rest of the troops 
hastened against the Indians. 

Three miles out they were joined by Lieutenant 
Ward's company, and five miles more brought them 
within sight of a huge mass of mounted Indians ad- 
vancing up the creek. These warriors were cover- 
ing the retreat of their squaws, who were packing 
up and getting ready for hasty flight. 

General Carr ordered a charge on the red line. 
If it were broken, the cavalry was to continue, and 
surround the village. The movement was success- 
fully executed, but one officer misunderstood the 
order, and, charging on the left wing of the hostiles, 
was speedily hemmed in by some three hundred red- 
skins. Reinforcements were dispatched to his relief, 
but the plan of battle was spoiled, and the remainder 
of the afternoon was spent in contesting the ground 
with the Indians, who fought for their lodges, 
squaws, and children with desperate and dogged 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 179 

courage. When night came on, the wagon-trahis, 
which had been ordered to follow, had not put in an 
appearance, and, though the regiment went back to 
look for them, it was nine o'clock before they were 
reached. 

Camp was broken at daybreak, and the pursuit 
began, but not an Indian was In sight. All the day 
the trail was followed. There was evidence that the 
Indians had abandoned everything that might 
hinder their flight. That night the regiment camped 
on the banks of the Republican, and the next morn- 
ing caught a distant glimpse of the foe. 

About eleven o'clock a charge was made by three 
hundred mounted warriors, but they were repulsed 
with considerable loss, and when they discovered 
that defeat was certain, they evaded further pursuit 
by breaking up into companies and scattering to all 
points of the compass. A large number of ponies 
were collected as trophies of this expedition. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

WILL MADE CHIEF OF SCOUTS 

In due time the Fifth Cavalry reached Fort Mc- 
Pherson, which became its headquarters while they 
were fitting out a new expedition to go into the Re- 
publican River country. At this time General Carr 
recommended to General Augur, who was in com- 
mand of the Department, that Will be made chief 
of scouts in the Department of the Platte. 

Will's fancy had been so taken by the scenery 
along the line of march that he proceeded to explore 
the country around McPherson, the result being a 
determination to make his future home in the Platte 
Valley. 

Shortly after reaching the fort, the scouts' divi- 
sion of the Fifth Cavalry was reinforced by Major 
Frank North and three companies of the celebrated 
Pawnee scouts. These became the most interesting 
and amusing objects In camp, partly on account of 
their race, but mainly because of the bizarre dress 
fashions they affected. My brother, in his auto- 
biography, describes the appearance presented by 
these scouts during a review of the command by 
Brigadier-General Duncan. 

The regiment made a fine showing, the men being 

180 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS iSi 

well drilled and thoroughly versed in tactics. The 
Pawnees also showed up well on drill, but their full- 
dress uniforms were calculated to excite even the 
army horses to laughter. Regular cavalry suits had 
been furnished them, but no two of the Pawnees 
seemed to agree as to the correct manner in which 
the various articles should be worn. As they lined 
up for dress parade, some of them wore heavy over- 
coats, others discarded even pantaloons, content 
with a breech-clout. Some wore large black hats, 
with brass accouterments, others were bareheaded. 
Many wore the pantaloons, but declined the shirts, 
v/hile a few of the more original cut the seats from 
the pantaloons, leaving only leggins. Half of them 
were without boots or moccasins, but wore the clink- 
ing spurs with manifest pride. 

They were a quaint and curious lot, but drilled re- 
markably well for Indians, and obeyed orders. They 
were devoted to their white chief. Major North, 
who spoke Pawnee like a native, and they were very 
proud of their position in the United States army. 
Good soldiers they made, too — hard riders, crack 
shots, and desperate fighters. 

At the close of the parade and review referred to, 
the officers and the ladles attended an Indian dance, 
given by the Pawnees, which climaxed a rather ex- 
citing day. 

The following morning an expedition moved back 
to the Republican River, to curb the high spirits of a 
band of Sioux, who had grown boldly troublesome. 
This was the sort of service the Pawnees welcomed, 
as they and the Sioux were hereditary enemies. 

At the journey's end, camp was made at tho 
mouth of the Beaver, and the Sioux were heard 



1 82 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

from within the hour. A party of them raided the 
mules that had been taken to the river, and the 
alarm was given by a herder, who dashed into camp 
with an arrow sticking in his shoulder. 

Will did not wait to saddle his horse, but the 
Pawnees were as quick as he, and both of them 
rather surprised the Sioux, who did not expect such 
a swift response. Especially were they surprised to 
find themselves confronted by their tribal foe, the 
Pawnee, and they fell back hastily, closely pressed 
by Will and his red allies. A running fight was kept 
up for fifteen miles, and when many of the Sioux 
had been stretched upon the plain and the others 
scattered, the pursuing party returned to camp. 

Will himself, on a fine horse, had been somewhat 
chagrined at being passed in the chase by a Pawnee 
on an inferior-looking steed. Upon inquiring of 
Major North, he found that the swifter horse was, 
like his own, government property. The Pawnee 
was much attached to his mount, but he was also 
fond of tobacco, and a few pieces of that com- 
modity, supplemented by some other articles. In- 
duced him to exchange horses. Will named his new 
charge "Buckskin Joe," and rode him for four 
years. Joe proved a worthy successor to Brigham 
for speed, endurance, and intelligence. 

This was the first adventure that Will and the 
Pawnees had pursued together, and they emerged 
with an increased esteem for each other. Not long 
afterward, WIlFs skill as a buffalo-hunter raised the 
admiration of the Indians to enthusiasm. 

Twenty Pawnees that circled around one herd of 
buffaloes killed only twenty-two, and when the next 
herd came in view Will asked Major North to keep 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 183 

the Indians in the background while he showed them 
a thing or two. Buckskin Joe was a capital buffalo- 
hunter, and so well did he perform his part that 
Will brought down thirty-six, about one at every 
shot. 

The Pawnees were delighted. They held it con- 
siderable of an achievement to kill two or three of 
the monarchs of the plains at a single run, and Will's 
feat dazzled them. He was at once pronounced a 
great chief, and ever after occupied a high place in 
their regard. 

Moving up the Republican River, the troops went 
into camp on Black Tail Deer Fork. Scarcely were 
the tents pitched when a band of Indians were seen 
sweeping toward them at full speed, singing, yelling, 
and waving lances. The camp was alive in an in- 
stant, but the Pawnees, Instead of preparing for de- 
fense, began to sing and yell in unison with the ad- 
vancing braves. "Those arc some of our own In- 
dians," said Major North; "theyVe had a fight, and 
are bringing In the scalps." 

And so it proved. The Pawnees reported a skir- 
mish with the Sioux, in which a few of the latter had 
been killed. 

The next day the regiment set forth upon the trail 
of the Sioux. They traveled rapidly, and plainly 
gained ground. 

At every camp the print of a woman's shoe was 
noted among the tracks of mocassined feet. The 
band evidently had a white captive In tow, and Gen- 
eral Carr, selecting the best horses, ordered a forced 
march, the wagon-trains to follow as rapidly as 
possible. Will, with six Pawnees, was to go ahead 
and locate the hostiles, and send back word, so that 



1 84 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

a plan of attack might be arranged before the 
Indian village was reached. 

This village the scouts discovered among the sand- 
hills at Summit Springs, a few miles from the South 
Platte River; and while the Pawnees remained to 
vv^atch, Will returned to General Carr with the 
news. 

There was suppressed excitement all along the 
line, as officers and men prepared for what prom- 
ised to be a lively scrimmage. The troops moved 
forward by a circuitous route, and reached a hill 
overlooking the hostile camp without their presence 
being dreamed of by the red men. 

The bughler was ordered to sound the charge, 
but he was trembling with excitement, and unable 
to blow a note. 

''Sound the charge, man!'* ordered General Carr 
a second time; but the unhappy wight could scarcely 
hold his horn, much less, blow it. Quartermaster 
Hays snatched the instrument from the flustered 
man's hands, and as the call rang out loud and clear 
the troops rushed to- the attack. 

Taken wholly by surprise, the Indian village went 
to pieces In a twinkling. A few of the Sioux mount- 
ed and rode forward to repel the assault, but they 
turned back in half a minute, while those that were 
not mounted scattered for the foothills hard by. 
The cavalry swept through the village like a prairie 
fire, and pursued the flying Indians until darkness 
put an end to the chase. 

By the next morning the bughler had grown calm 
enough to sound "Boots and Saddles!" and General 
Carr split his force" into companies, as it was dis- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 185 

covered that the Indians had divided. Each com- 
pany was to follow a separate trail. 

Will made one of a band of two hundred, and 
for two days they dogged the red man's footsteps. 
At sunrise of the third day the trail ran into an- 
other, showing that the Sioux had reunited their 
forces. This was serious for the little company of 
regulars, but they went ahead, eager for a meeting 
with the savages. 

They had not long to wait. The sun was scarcely 
an hour high when some six hundred Sioux were 
espied riding In close ranks along the bank of the 
Platte. The Indians discovered the troops at the 
same moment, and at once gave battle. The Indian 
is not a coward, though he frequently declines com- 
bat if the odds are not largely In his favor. 

In this engagement the Sioux outnumbered the 
soldiers three to one, and the latter fell back slowly 
until they reached a ravine. Here they tethered 
their horses and waited the course of Indian events, 
which, as usual, came In circular form. The Sioux 
surrounded the regulars, and finding them com- 
paratively few in number, made a gallant charge. 

But bows and arrows are futile against powder 
and ball, and the warriors reeled back from a scath- 
ing fire, leaving a score of their number dead. 

Another charge, another repulse ; and then a coun- 
cil of war. This lasted an hour, and evidently 
evolved a brilliant stratagem, for the Sioux divided 
into two bands, and while one made a show of with- 
drawing, the other circled around and around the 
position where the soldiers lay. 

At a point In this revolving belt of redskins rode 
a well-mounted, handsome warrior, plainly a chief. 



iS6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

It had been Will's experience that to lay low a chief 
was half the battle when lighting Indians, but this 
particular mogul kept just out of rifle-shot. There 
are, however, as many ways of killing an Indian as 
of killing a cat; so Will crawled on hands and knees 
along the ravine to a point which he thought would 
be within range of the chief when next he swung 
around the circle. 

The calculation was close enough, and when the 
warrior came loping along, slacking his pace to cross 
the ravine, Will rose and fired. 

It was a good four hundred yards, but the war- 
rior pitched from his scat, and his pony ran down 
the ravine Into the ranks of the soldiers, who were 
so elated over the success of the shot that they voted 
the animal to Will as a trophy. 

The fallen warrior was Tall Bull, one of the 
ablest chiefs the Sioux ever had. His death so dis- 
heartened his braves that they at once retreated. 

A union of General Carr's scattered forces fol- 
lowed, and a few days later an engagement took 
place in which three hundred warriors and a large 
number of ponies were captured. Some white cap- 
tives were released, and several hundred squaws 
made prisoners. 

Among these latter was the amiable widow of 
Tall Bull, who, far from cherishing animosity 
against Will as the slayer of her spouse, took pride 
In the fact that he had fallen under the fire of so 
great a warrior as "Pa-has-ka," Long-haired Chief, 
by which name our scout was known among the In- 
dians. 



CHAPTER XIX 

ARMY LIFE AT FORT m'pHERSON 

In the spring of 1870 Will proceeded to put into 
effect the determination of the previous year — to es- 
tablish a home in the lovely country of the westerly 
Platte. After preparing quarters wherein his family 
might be comfortable^ he obtained a leave of ab- 
sence and departed for St. Louis to fetch his wife 
and daughter, Arta, now a beautiful child of three. 

The fame of "Buffalo Bill" had extended far be- 
yond the plains, and during his month's sojourn in St. 
Louis he was the object of a great deal of attention. 
When the family prepared to depart for the fron- 
tier home, my sister-in-law wrote to me to ask If I 
did not wish to accompany them. I should have 
been delighted to accept the invitation, but at that 
especial time there were strong attractions for me 
In my childhood's home; besides, I felt that sister 
May, who had not enjoyed the pleasure of the St. 
Louis trip, was entitled to the Western jaunt. 

So May made a visit to McPherson, and a de- 
lightful time she had, though she was at first in- 
clined to quarrel with the severe discipline of army 
life. Will ranked with the officers, and as a result 
May's social companions were limited to the two 
daughters of General Augur, who were also on a 

187 



1 88 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

visit to the fort. To compensate for the shortage 
of feminine society, however, there were a number 
of young unmarried officers. 

Every day had its curious or enlivening incident, 
and May's letters to me were filled with accounts of 
the gayety of life at an army post. After several 
months I was invited to join her. She was enthu- 
siastic over a proposed buffalo-hunt, as she desired 
to take part in one before her return to Leaven- 
worth, and wished me to enjoy the sport with her. 

In accepting the invitation I fixed a certain day 
for my arrival at McPherson, but I was delayed in 
my journey, and did not reach the fort until three 
days after the date set. May was much disturbed. 
She had allowed me three days for recuperation 
from the journey, and I had arrived on the eve of 
the buffalo-hunt. Naturally, I was too fatigued to 
rave over buffaloes, and I objected to joining the 
hunt; and I was encouraged in my objecting by the 
discovery that my brother was away on a scouting 
trip. 

"You don't think of going buffalo-hunting with- 
out Will, do you?" I asked May. 

"Why," said she, "we can never tell when he will 
be in camp and when away; he's off scouting nearly 
all the time. And we can't get up a buffalo-hunt on 
five minutes' notice; we must plan ahead. Our 
party is all ready to start, and there's a reporter 
here from an Omaha paper to write it up. We 
can't put it off, and you must go." 

After that, of course, there was nothing more to 
be said, and when the hunting-party set forth I made 
one of it. 

A gay party it was. For men, there were a num- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 189 

ber of officers, and the newspaper man, Dr. Frank 
Powell, now of La Crosse; for women, the wives 
of two of the officers, the daughters of General Au- 
gur, May, and myself. There was sunshine, laugh- 
ter, and incessant chatter, and when one is young 
and fond of horseback-riding, and a handsome 
young officer rides by one's side, physical fatigue is 
apt to vanish for a time. 

The fort was soon nothing but a break in the 
sky-line, and with a sense almost of awe I looked 
for the first time upon the great American desert. 
To our left, as we rode eastward, ran the swift and 
shallow Platte, dotted with green-garbed islands. 
This river Washington Irving called "the most mag- 
nificent and the most useless of streams." "The 
islands," he wrote, "have the appearance of a laby- 
rinth of groves floating on the waters. Their ex- 
traordinary position gives an air of youth and love- 
liness to the whole scene. If to this be added the 
undulations of the river, the waving of the verdure, 
the alternations of light and shade, and the purity of 
the atmosphere, some idea may be formed of the 
pleasing sensations which the traveler experiences 
on beholding a scene that seems to have started 
fresh from the hands of the Creator." 

In sharp contrast was the sandy plain over which 
we rode. On this grew the short, stubby buffalo- 
grass, the dust-colored sage-brush, and cactus in 
rank profusion. Over to the right, perhaps a mile 
away, a long range of foothills ran down to the 
horizon, with here and there the great caiions, 
through which entrance was effected to the upland 
country, each caiion bearing a historical or legendary 
name. 



I90 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

To my eyes the picture was as beautiful as it was 
novel. As far as one could see there was no sign of 
human habitation. It was one vast, untenanted 
waste, with the touch of infinity the ocean wears. 

As we began to get into the foothills, one of our 
equestriennes narrowly escaped a fall. Her horse 
dropped a foot into a prairie-dog's hole, and came 
to an abrupt stop. The foot was extricated, and I 
was instructed in the dangers that beset the prairie 
voyager in these blind traps of the plain. 

The trail had been ascending at a gentle grade, 
and we had a slight change of scene — desert hill in- 
stead of desert plain. The sand-hills rose in tiers 
before us, and I was informed that they were formed 
ages ago by the action of water. What was hard, 
dry ground to our horses' hoofs was once the bot- 
tom of the sea. 

I was much interested In the geology of my en- 
vironments ; much more so than I should have been 
had I been told that those strange, weird hills were 
the haunt of the red man, who was on the war-path, 
and looking constantly for scalps. But these un- 
pleasant facts were not touched upon by the officers, 
and in blissful ignorance we pursued the tenor of 
our way. 

We were obliged to ride a great distance before 
we sighted any game, and after twenty miles had 
been gone over, my temporarily forgotten weariness 
began to reassert itself. Dr. Powell proposed that 
the ladies should do the shooting, but my interest in 
the hunt had waned. It had been several years since 
I had ridden a horse, and after the first few miles 
I was not in a suitable frame of mind or body to 
enjoy the most exciting hunt. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 191 

A herd of buffaloes fina?lly came Into view, and 
the party was instantly alive. One old bull was a 
little apart from the others of the herd, and was 
singled out for the first attack. As we drew within 
range, a rifle was given to May, with explicit direc- 
tions as to its handling. The buffalo has but one 
vulnerable spot, and it is next to impossible for a 
novice to make a fatal shot. May fired, and per- 
haps her shot might be called a good one, for the 
animal was struck; but it was only v/ounded and In- 
furiated, and dropping its shaggy head, it rushed 
toward us. The officers fusilladed the mountain 
flesh, succeeding only in rousing it to added fury. 
Another rifle was handed to May, and Dr. Powell 
directed its aim; but terrified by the near presence of 
the charging bull. May discharged It at random. 

Although this is strictly a narrative of facts, ex- 
ercising the privilege of the novelist, we leave our 
present heroine in her perilous position, and return, 
for a space, to the fort. 

Will returned from his scouting trip shortly after 
the departure of the hunting party, and his first 
query was : 

^'Is Nellie here?" 

"Come and gone," replied his wife; and she In- 
formed him of the manner in which I had been car- 
ried off on the long-talked-of buffalo-hunt. Where- 
upon Will gave way to one of his rare fits of pas- 
sion. The scouting trip had been long and arduous, 
he was tired and hungry, but also keenly anxious for 
our safety. He knew what v/e were ignorant of — 
that should we come clear of the not insignificant 
dangers attendant upon a buffalo-hunt, there re- 
mained the possibility of capture by Indians. 



192 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"I must go after them at once/* said he; and off 
he went, without thought of rest or food. He did 
take time, however, to visit the officers' quarters and 
pour a vial of wrath upon the bewildered head of 
the inferior who occupied the place of the absent 
comimandant. 

"Didn't you know," cried Will, "that my con- 
tinued absence meant danger in the air? Fine idea, 
to let a party of ladies go beyond the fort on such 
a foolhardy expedition before I had assured you it 
was safe to do so ! Understand, if any harm comes 
to my sisters, I'll hold the government responsible !" 

With which tremendous threat he mounted the 
swiftest horse in camp and rode away before the as- 
tonished officer had recovered from his surprise. 

He was able to track us over the sand-hills, and 
reached us, in accepted hero fashion, in the very nick 
of time. The maddened bull buffalo was charging 
on May, unchecked by a peppering fire from the 
guns of the officers. All hands were so absorbed by 
the intense excitement of the moment that the sound 
of approaching hoof-beats was unnoted. But I 
heard, from behind us, the crack of a rifle, and saw 
the buffalo fall dead almost at our feet. 

The ill-humor of our rescuer dampened the ardor 
of the welcome we gave him. The long ride on an 
empty stomach had not smoothed a ripple of his 
ruffled temper, and we were all properly lectured. 
We were ordered back to the fort at once, and the 
command was of such a nature that no one thought 
of disputing it. The only question was, whether 
we could make the fort before being cut off by In- 
dians. There was no time to be wasted, even in 
cutting meat from the tongue of the fallen buffalo. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 193 

Will showed us the shortest cut for home, and him- 
self zigzagged ahead of us, on the watch for a 
danger signal. 

For my part, I was so worn out that I would as 
soon be captured by Indians, If they would agree to 
provide me a wigwam wherein I might lie down and 
rest; but no Indians appeared. Five miles from the 
fort was the ranch of a wealthy bachelor, and at 
May's request a halt was here called. It was thought 
that the owner of the ranch might take pity upon 
my deplorable condition, and provide some sort of 
vehicle to convey the ladles the remainder of the 
journey. 

We were heartily welcomed, and our bachelor 
host made us extremely comfortable in his cozy 
apartments, while he ordered supper for the party. 
Will considered that we were within the safety zone, 
so he continued on to the fort to obtain his post- 
poned rest; and after supper the ladies rode to the 
fort in a carriage. 

The next day's Omaha paper contained an ac- 
count of the hunt from Dr. Powell's graphic pen, 
and in It May Cody received all the glory of the 
shot that laid the buffalo low. Newspaper men are 
usually ready to sacrifice exact facts to an innate 
sense of the picturesque. 

At this time the fort was somewhat concerned 
over numerous petty crimes among the civilians, and 
General Emory, now chief in authority at the post, 
requested the county commissioners to appoint Will 
a justice of the peace. This was done, much to the 
dismay of the new justice, who, as he phrased it, 
'*'knew no more of law than a mule knows of sing- 
ing." But he was compelled to bear the blushing 



194 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

honors thrust upon him, and his sign was posted m 
a conspicuous place: 



WILLIAM F. CODY, 

Justice of the Peace. 



Almost the first thing he was called upon to do 
in his new capacity was to perform a wedding cere- 
mony. Cold sweat stood upon his brow as he im- 
plored our aid in this desperate emergency. The 
big law book with which he had been equipped at his 
installation was ransacked in vain for the needed 
information. The Bible was examined more dili- 
gently, perhaps, than it had ever been by him be- 
fore, but the Good Book was as unresponsive as the 
legal tome. "Remember your own wedding cere- 
mony," was our advice. ^'Follow that as nearly as 
possible." But he shook his head despondently. The 
cool-headed scout and Indian fighter was dismayed, 
and the dignity of the law trembled in the balance. 

To put an edge on the crisis, nearly the entire fort 
attended the wedding. All is well, said we, as we 
watched the justice take his place before the bridal 
pair with not a sign of trepidation. At the outset 
his conducting of the ceremony was irreproachable, 
and we were secretly congratulating ourselves upon 
his success, when our ears were startled by the an- 
nouncement : 

"Whom God and Buffalo Bill hath joined to- 
gether, let no man put asunder." 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 195 

So far as I am informed, no man has attempted it. 

Before May returned home, Will became the 
very proud father of a son. He had now three 
children, a second daughter, Orra, having been born 
two years before. The first boy of the family was 
the object of the undivided interest of the post for 
a time, and names by the dozen were suggested. 
Major North offered Kit Carson as an appropriate 
name for the son of a great scout and buffalo-hunter^ 
and this was finally settled on. 

My first touch of real anxiety came with an order 
to Will to report at headquarters for assignment to 
duty. The county was alive with Indians, the offi- 
cers in command informed him, and this intelligence 
filled me with dread. My sister-in-law had grown 
accustomed to her husband's excursions into danger- 
land, and accepted such saUies as incidents of his 
position. Later, I too, learned this stoical philoso- 
phy, but at first my anxiety was so keen that Will 
laughed at me. 

**Don't worry," said he; "the Indians won't visit 
the fort to-night. There's no danger of them scalp- 
ing you." 

"But," said I, "it is for you, not for myself, that: 
I am afraid. It is horrible to think of you going 
out alone among those foothills, which swarm with 
Indians." 

The fort was on the prairie, but the distant foot- 
hills stretched away interminably, and these fur- 
nished favorite lurking-places for the redskins. Will 
drew me to a window and pointed out the third tier 
of hills, some twelve or fifteen miles away. 

"I would advise you," said he, "to go to bed and 
sleep, but if you insist on keeping awake and worry- 



196 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

ing, I will kindle a blaze on top of that hill at mid- 
night. Watch closely. I can send up only one flash, 
for there will be Indian eyes unclosed as well as 
yours." 

One may Imagine with what a beating heart I 
stared Into the darkness when the hour of twelve 
drew on. The night was a veil that hid a thousand 
terrors, but a gauzy veil, to my excited fancy, be- 
hind which passed a host of shadowy horsemen with 
uptossing lances. How could a man ride alone into 
such a gloomy-terror-haunted domain? The knights 
of old, who sallied forth in search of dismal ogres 
and noxious dragons, were not of stouter heart, and 
tliey breasted only fancied perils. 

Twelve o'clock! The night had a thousand eyes, 
but they did not pierce the darkness of the foothills. 

Ah ! A thin ribbon of light curled upward for an 
instant, then vanished. Will was safe thus far. But 
there were many hours — and the darkest — before 
the dawn, and I carried to my bed the larger share 
of my forebodings. 

Next day the scout came home to report the exact 
location of the hostile Sioux. The troops, ready for 
instant action, were hurled against them, and the 
Indians were thoroughly thrashed. A large number 
of chiefs were captured, among them *'Red Shirt,'* 
an interesting redskin, who afterward traveled with 
the "Wild West." 

Captive chiefs were always esteemed of great 
interest by the ladies of the fort. To me the braves 
taken in the last raid were remarkable mainly for 
economy of apparel and sulkiness of demeanor. 

This same fall the fort was visited by a gentle- 
man introduced as Colonel Judson, though the pub- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 197 

He knows him better as "Ned Buntllne," the story- 
writer. He desired to accompany the scouts on a 
certain proposed trip, and Major Brown Informed 
Will that the ulterior motive of the author was to 
project Buffalo Bill Into a novel as hero. 

"Now, I'd look pretty In a novel, wouldn't I?" 
said Will sarcastically and blushlngly. 

"Yes, I think you would," returned the major, 
eyeing the other's splendid proportions critically. 

Whereupon the scout blushed again, and doffed 
his sombrero in acknowledgment of the compli- 
ment, for — 

" 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; 
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't." 

A retired naval officer, Ned Buntllne wore a black 
undress military suit. His face was bronzed and 
rugged, determined yet kindly; he walked with a 
slight limp, and carried a cane. He shook Will's 
hand cordially when they were introduced, and ex- 
pressed great pleasure In the meeting. This v/as the 
genesis of a friendship destined to work great 
changes in Buffalo Bill's career. 

During the scouting expedition that followed, the 
party chanced upon an enormous bone, which the 
surgeon pronounced the femur of a human body. 
Will understood the Indian tongues well enough to 
be in part possession of their traditions, and he re- 
lated the Sioux legend of the flood. 

It was taught by the wise men of this tribe that 
the earth was originally peopled by giants, who were 
fully three times the size of modern men. They 
were so swift and powerful that they could run 
alongside a buffalo, take the animal under one arm. 



198 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

and tear off a leg, and eat it as they ran. So vain- 
glorious were they because of their own size and 
strength that they denied the existence of a Creator. 
¥/hen it lighted, they proclaimed their superiority 
to the lightning; when it thundered, they laughed. 

This displeased the Great Spirit, and to rebuke 
their arrogance he sent a great rain upon the earth. 
The valleys filled with water, and the giants re- 
treated to the hills. The water crept up the hills, 
and the giants sought safety on the highest moun- 
tains. Still the rain continued, the waters rose, and 
the giants, having no other refuge, were drowned. 

The Great Spirit profited by his former mistake. 
When the waters subsided, he made a new race of 
men, but he made them smaller and less strong. 

This tradition has been handed down from Sioux 
father to Sioux son since earliest ages. It shows, at 
least, as the legends of all races do, that the story 
of the Deluge is history common to all the world. 

Another interesting Indian tradition bears evi- 
dence of a later origin. The Great Spirit, they say, 
once formed a man of clay, and he was placed in 
the furnace to bake, but he was subjected to the heat 
too long a time, and came out burnt. Of him came 
the negro race. At another trial the Great Spirit 
feared the second clay man might also burn, and he 
was not left in the furnace long enough. Of him 
came the paleface man. The Great Spirit was now 
in a position to do perfect work, and the third clay 
man was left in the furnace neither too long nor too 
short a time; he emerged a masterpiece, the ne plus 
ultra of creation — the noble red man. 



CHAPTER XX 

PA-HAS-KA, THE LONG-HAIRED CHIEF 

Although the glory of killing the buffalo on our 
hunt was accredited to sister May, to me the episode 
proved of much more moment. In the spring of 
1 87 1 I was married to Mr. Jester, the bachelor 
ranchman at whose place we had tarried on our hur- 
ried return to the fort. His house had a rough ex- 
terior, but was substantial and commodious, and 
before I entered it, a bride, It was refitted In a style 
almost luxurious. I returned to Leavenworth to 
prepare for the wedding, which took place at the 
home of an old friend, Thomas Plowman, his 
daughter Emma having been my chum In girlhood. 

In our home near McPherson we were five miles 
"In the country." Nature in primitive wildness en- 
compassed us, but life's song never ran into a mono- 
tone. The prairie Is never dull when one watches 
it from day to day for signs of Indians. Yet we 
were not especially concerned, as we were near 
enough to the fort to reach It on short notice, and 
besides our home there was another house where 
the ranchmen lived. With these I had little to do. 
My especial factotum was a negro boy, whose chief 
duty was to saddle my horse and bring It to the door, 

199 



200 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

attend me upon my rides, and minister to my com- 
fort generally. Poor little chap! He was one of 
the first of the Indians' victims. 

Early one morning John, as he was called, was 
sent out alone to look after the cattle. During 
breakfast the clatter of hoofs was heard, and Will 
rode up to Inform us that the Indians were on the 
war-path and massed In force just beyond our ranch. 
Back of Will were the troops, and we were advised 
to ride at once to the fort. Hastily packing a few 
valuables, we took refuge at McPherson, and re- 
mained there until the troops returned with the news 
that all danger was over. 

Upon our return to the ranch v/e found that the 
cattle had been driven away, and poor little John 
was picked up dead on the skirts of the foothills. 
The redskins had apparently started to scalp him, 
but had desisted. Perhaps they thought his wool 
would not make a desirable trophy, perhaps they 
were frightened away. At all events, the poor 
child's scalp was left to him, though the mark of the 
knife v/as plain. 

Shortly after this episode, some capitalists from 
the East visited my husband. One of them, Mr. 
Bent, owned aiarge share In the cattle-ranches. He 
desired to visit this ranch, and the whole party 
planned a hunt at the same time. As there were no 
banking facilities on the frontier, drafts or bills of 
exchange would -have been of no use; so the money 
designed for Western Investment had been brought 
along in cash. To carry this on the proposed trip 
was too great a risk, and I was asked banterlngly 
to act as banker. I consented readily, but Imagine 
my perturbation when twenty-five thousand dollars 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 201 

In bank-notes were counted out and left in my care. 
I had never had the responsibility of so large a sum 
of money before, and compared to me the man with 
the elephant on his hands had a tranquil time of it. 
After considering various methods for secreting the 
money, I decided for the hair mattress on my bed. 
This I ripped open, inserted the envelope contain- 
ing the bank-notes, and sewed up the slit. No one 
was aware of my trust, and I regarded It safe. 

A few mornings later I ordered my pony and 
rode away to visit my nearest neighbor, a Mrs. 
Erickson, purposing later to ride to the fort and 
spend the day with Lou, my sister-in-law. When I 
reached Mrs. Erickson's house, that good woman- 
came out in great excitement to greet me. 

*'You must come right in, Mrs. Jester!" said she. 
"The foothills are filled with Indians on the war- 
path." 

She handed me her field-glass, and directed my 
gaze to the trail below our ranch, over which buf- 
faloes, cattle, and Indians passed down to the 
Platte. I could plainly see the warriors tramping 
along Indian-file, their head-feathers waving in the 
breez6 and their blankets flapping about them as 
they walked. Instantly the thought of the twenty- 
five thousand dollars intrusted to my care flashed 
across my mind. 

*'0h, Mrs. Erickson," I exclaimed, "I must re- 
turn to the ranch immediately!" 

"You must not do so, Mrs. Jester; it's as much as 
your life is worth to attempt it," said she. 

But I thought only of the money, and notvv^lth- 
standing warning and entreaty, mounted my horse 
and flew back on the homeward path, not even dar- 



202 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

Ing to look once toward the foothills. When I 
reached the house, I called to the overseer: 

"The Indians are on the war-path, and the foot- 
hills are full of them! Have two or three men 
ready to escort me to the fort by the time I have 
my valise packed." 

"Why, Mrs. Jester," was the reply, "there are 
no Indians in sight." 

"But there are," said I. "I saw them as plainly 
as I see you, and the Ericksons saw them, too." 

"You have been the victim of a mirage," said the 
overseer. "Look! there are no Indians now in 
view." 

I scanned the foothills closely, but there was no 
sign of a warrior. With my field-glasses I searched 
the entire rim of the horizon; it was tranquillity It- 
self. I experienced a great relief, nevertheless. My 
nerves were so shaken that I could not remain at 
home; so I packed a valise, taking along the pack- 
age of bank-notes, and visited another neighbor, a 
Mrs. McDonald, a dear friend of many years' 
standing, who lived nearer the fort. 

This excellent woman was an old resident of the 
frontier. After she had heard my story, she re- 
lated some of her own Indian, experiences. When 
she first settled In her present home, there was no 
fort to which she could flee from Indian molestation, 
and she was often compelled to rely upon her wits to 
extricate her from dangerous situations. The story 
that especially impressed me was the following: 

"One evening when I was alone," said Mrs. Mc- 
Donald, "I became conscious that eyes were peer- 
ing at me from the darkness outside my window. 
Flight was impossible, and my husband would not 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 203 

likely reach home for an hour or more. What 
should I do? A happy thought came to me. You 
know, perhaps, that Indians, for some reason, have 
a strange fear of a drunken woman, and will not 
molest one. I took from a closet a bottle filled with 
a dark-colored liquid, poured out a glassful and 
drank it. In a few minutes I repeated the dose, and 
then seemingly it began to take effect. I would try 
to walk across the room, staggering and nearly fall- 
ing. I became uproariously 'happy.' I flung my 
arms above my head, lurched from side to side, 
sang a maudlin song, and laughed loudly and fool- 
ishly. The stratagem Sfucceeded. One* by one the 
shadowy faces at the window disappeared, and by 
the time my husband and the men returned there 
was not an Indian in the neighborhood. I became 
sober immediately. Molasses and water is not a 
very intoxicating beverage.'* 

I plucked up courage to return to the ranch that 
evening, and shortly afterward the hunting-party 
rode up. When I related the story of my fright, 
Mr. Bent complimented me upon what he was 
pleased to call my courage. 

"You are your brother's own sister," said he. 
"We'll make you banker again." 

"Thank you, but I do not believe you will," said 
I. "I have had all the experience I wish for in the 
banking business in this Indian country." 

Upon another occasion Indians were approach- 
ing the fort from the farther side, but as we were 
not regarded as in danger, no warning was sent to 
us. The troops sallied out after the redskins, and 
the cunning warriors described a circle. To hide 
their trail they set fire to the prairie, and the hills 



204 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

about us were soon ablaze. The flames spread swift- 
ly, and the smoke rolled upon us in suffocating vol- 
ume. We retreated to the river, and managed to 
exist by dashing water upon our faces. Here we were 
found by soldiers sent from the fort to warn set- 
tlers of their peril, and at their suggestion we re- 
turned to the ranch, saddled horses, and rode 
through the dense smoke five miles to the fort. It 
was the most unpleasant ride of my life. 

In the preceding chapter mention was made of 
the finding of a remarkable bone. It became fa- 
mous, and in the summer of 1871 Professor Marsh, 
of Yale College, brought out a party of students to 
search for fossils. They found a number, but were 
not rewarded by anything the most credulous could 
torture Into a human relic. 

This summer also witnessed an Indian campaign 
somewhat out of the common in several of its de- 
tails. More than one volume would be required to 
record all the adventures Scout Cody had with the 
Children of the Plains, most of which had so many 
points in common that It Is necessary to touch upon 
only those containing Incidents out of the ordinary. 

An expedition, under command of General Dun- 
can, was fitted out for the Republican River coun- 
try. Duncan was a jolly officer and a born fighter. 
His brother officers had a story that once on a time 
he had been shot In the head by a cannon-ball, and 
that while he was not hurt a particle, the ball 
glanced off and killed one of the toughest mules in 
the army. 

Perhaps It was because the Pawnees spoke so 
little English, and spoke that little so badly, that 
General Duncan insisted upon their repeating the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 205 

English call, which would be something like this: 
'Tost Number One. Nine o'clock. All's well." 
The Pawnee effort to obey was so ludicrous, and 
provocative of such profanity (which they could ex- 
press passing well), that the order was counter- 
manded. 

One afternoon Major North and Will rode ahead 
of the command to select a site for the night's camp. 
They ran Into a band of some fifty Indians, and 
were obliged to take the back track as fast as their 
horses could travel. Will's whip was shot from his 
hand and a hole put through his hat. As they 
sighted the advance-guard of the command, Major 
North rode around in a circle — a signal to the Paw- 
nees that hostlles were near. Instantly the Pawnees 
broke ranks and dashed pell-mell to the relief of 
their white chief. The hostiles now took a turn at 
retreating, and kept it up for several miles. 

The troops took up the trail on the following day, 
and a stern chase set in. In passing through a de- 
serted camp the troops found an aged squaw, who 
had been left to die. The soldiers built a lodge for 
her, and she was provided with sufficient rations to 
last her until she reached the Indian heaven, the 
happy hunting-grounds. She was in no haste, how- 
ever, to get to her destination, and on their return 
the troops took her to the fort with them. Later 
she was sent to the Spotted Tail agency. 

In September of 1871 General Sheridan and a 
party of friends arrived at the post for a grand 
hunt. Between him and Will existed a warm friend- 
ship, which continued to the close of the general's 
life. Great preparations v/ere made for the hunt. 
General Emory, now commander of the fort, sent a 



2o6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

troop of cavalry to meet the distinguished visitors 
at the station and escort them to the fort. Besides 
General Sheridan, there were in the party Leonard 
and Lawrence Jerome, Carroll Livingstone, James 
Gordon Bennett, J. G. Heckscher, General Fitz- 
hugh, Schuyler Crosby, Dr. Asch, Mr. McCarthy, 
and other well-known men. When they reached the 
post they found the regiment drawn up on dress 
parade; the band struck up a martial air, the cav- 
alry were reviewed by General Sheridan, and the 
formalities of the occasion were regarded as over. 

It was Sheridan's request that Will should act as 
guide and scout for the hunting-party. One hun- 
dred troopers under Major Brown were detailed as 
escort, and the commissary department fairly 
bulged. Several ambulances were also taken along, 
for the comfort of those who might weary of the 
saddle. 

Game was abundant, and rare sport was had. 
Buffalo, elk and deer were everywhere, and to those 
of the party who were new to Western life the 
prairie-dog villages were objects of much interest. 
These villages are often of great extent. They are 
made up of countless burrows, and so honeycombed 
is the country infested by the little animals that 
travel after nightfall is perilous for horses. The 
dirt is heaped around the entrance to the burrows a 
foot high, and here the prairie-dogs, who are so- 
ciability itself, sit on their hind legs and gossip with 
one another. Owls and rattlesnakes share the un- 
derground homes with the rightful owners, and all 
get along together famously. 

When the hunting-party returned to McPherson, 
its members voted Will a veritable Nimrod — a 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 207 

mighty hunter, and he was abundantly thanked for 
his masterly guidance of the expedition. 

That winter a still more distinguished party vis- 
ited the post — the Grand Duke Alexis and his 
friends. As many of my readers will recall, the 
nobleman's visit aroused much enthusiasm in this 
country. The East had wined and dined him to 
satiety, but wining and dining are common to all 
nations, and the Grand Duke desired to see the wild 
life of America — the Indian in his tepee and the 
prairie monarch in his domain, as well as the hardy 
frontiersman, who feared neither savage warrior 
nor savage beast. 

The Grand Duke had hunted big game In East- 
ern lands, and he was a capital shot. General Sher- 
idan engineered this expedition also, and, as on the 
previous occasions, he relied upon Will to make it 
a success. The latter received word to select a 
good camp on Red Willow Creek, where game was 
plentiful, and to make all needed arrangements for 
the comfort and entertainment of the noble party. 
A special feature suggested by Sheridan for the 
amusement and instruction of the continental guests 
was an Indian war-dance and Indian buffalo-hunt. 
To procure this entertainment it was necessary to 
visit Spotted Tail, chief of the Sioux, and persuade 
him to bring over a hundred warriors. At this time 
there was peace between the Sioux and the govern- 
ment, and the dance Idea was feasible ; nevertheless, 
a visit to the Sioux camp was not without Its dan- 
gers. Spotted Tail himself was seemingly sincere 
in a desire to observe the terms of the ostensible 
peace between his people and the authorities, but 
many of the other Indians would rather have had 



2o8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the scalp of the Long-haired Chief than a century 
of peace. 

Will so timed his trip as to reach the Indian 
camp at dusk, and hitching his horse in the timber, 
he wrapped his blanket closely about him, so that 
in the gathering darkness he might easily pass for a 
warrior. Thus invested, he entered the village, and 
proceeded to the lodge of Spotted Tall. 

The conference with the distinguished redskin 
was made smooth sailing by Agent Todd Randall, 
who happened to be on hand, and who acted as In- 
terpreter. The old chief felt honored by the invi- 
tation extended to him, and readily promised that 
in "ten sleeps" from that night he, with a hundred 
warriors, would be present at the white man's camp, 
which was to be pitched at the point where the gov- 
ernment trail crossed Red Willow Creek. 

As Spotted Tail did not repose a great amount of 
confidence in his high-spirited young men, he kept 
Will In his own lodge through the night. In the 
morning the chief assembled the camp, and present- 
ing his guest, asked If his warriors knew him. 

"It is Pa-has-ka, the Long-haired Chief!" they 
answered. 

Whereupon Spotted Tail informed them that he 
had eaten bread with the Long-haired Chief, thus 
establishing a bond of friendship, against v.olating 
which the warriors were properly warned. 

After that Will was entirely at his ease, although 
there were many sullen faces about him. They had 
long yearned for his scalp, and it was slightly irri- 
tating to find it so near and yet so far. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE HUNT OF THE GRAND DUKE ALEXIS 

A SPECIAL train brought the Grand Duke Alexis 
and party to North Platte on January 12, 1872. 
Will was presented to the illustrious visitor by Gen- 
eral Sheridan, and was much interested in him. He 
was also pleased to note that General Custer made 
one of the party. ' 

Will had made all the arrangements, and had 
everything complete when the train pulled in. As 
soon as the Grand Duke and party had breakfasted, 
they filed out to get their horses or to find seats in 
the ambulances. All who were mounted were ar- 
ranged according to rank. Will had sent one of his 
guides ahead, while he was to remain behind to see 
that nothing was left undone. Just as they were to 
start, the conductor of the Grand Duke's train came 
up to Will and said that Mr. Thompson had not re- 
ceived a horse. ''What Thompson?" asked Will. 
"Why, Mr. Frank Thompson, who has charge of 
the Grand Duke's train." Will looked over the list 
of names sent him by General Sheridan of those who 
would require saddle-horses, but failed to find that 
of Mr. Thompson. However, he did not wish to 
have Mr. Thompson or any one else left out. He 

209 



2IO LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

had following him, as he always did, his celebrated 
war-horse, "Buckskin Joe." This horse was not a 
very prepossessing "insect." He was buckskin in 
color, and rather a sorry-looking animal, but he was 
known all over the frontier as the greatest long- 
distance and best buffalo-horse living. Will had 
never allowed any one but himself to ride this horse, 
but as he had no other there at the time, he got a 
saddle and bridle, had it put on old Buckskin Joe, 
and told Mr. Thompson he could ride him until he 
got where he could get him another. This horse 
looked so different from the beautiful animals the 
rest of the party were supplied with that Mr. 
Thompson thought it rather discourteous to mount 
him In such fashion. However, he got on, and Will 
told him to follow up, as he wanted to go ahead to 
where the general was. As Mr. Thompson rode 
past the wagons and ambulances he noticed the 
teamsters pointing at him, and thinking the men 
were guying him, rode up to one of them, and said, 
"Am I not riding this horse all right?" Mr. 
Thompson felt some personal pride In his horseman- 
ship, as he was a Pennsylvania fox-hunter. 

The driver replied, "Yes, sir; you ride all right." 
"Well, then," said Thompson, "it must be this 
horse you are guying." 
The teamster replied: 

"Guying that horse? Not In a thousand years I" 
"Weil, then, why am I such a conspicuous ob- 
ject?" 

"Why, sir, are you not the king?" 
"The king? Why did you take me for the king?" 
"Because you are riding that horse. I guess you 
don't know what horse you are riding, do you ? No-^ 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 21 r 

body gets to ride that horse but Buffalo Bill. So 
when we all saw you riding him we supposed that of 
course you were the king, for that horse, sir, is 
Buckskin Joe." 

Thompson had heard General Sheridan telling 
about Buckskin Joe on the way out, and how Buffalo 
Bill had once run him eighty miles when the In- 
dians were after him. Thompson told Will after- 
ward that he grew about four feet when he found 
out that he was riding that most celebrated horse of 
the plains. He at once galloped ahead to over- 
take Will and thank him most heartily for allowing 
him the honor of such a mount. Will told him that 
he was going to let the Grand Duke kill his first 
buffalo on Buckskin Joe. "Well,'* replied Thomp- 
son, *'I want to ask one favor of you : Let me also 
kill a buffalo on this horse." Will replied that noth- 
ing would afford him greater pleasure. Buckskin 
Joe was covered with glory on this memorable hunt, 
as both the Grand Duke of Russia and Mr. Frank 
Thompson, later president of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
road, killed their first buffalo mounted on his back, 
and my brother ascribes to old Joe the acquisition of 
Mr. Frank Thompson's name to his list of life 
friendships. This hunt was an unqualified success, 
nothing occurring to mar one day of it. 

Spotted Tail was true to his promise. He and 
his hundred braves were on hand, shining In the full 
glory of war paint and feathers, and the war-dance 
they performed was of extraordinary interest to the 
Grand Duke and his friends. The outlandish contor- 
tions and grimaces of the Indians, their leaps and 
crouchings, their fiendish yells and whoops, made up 
a barbaric jangle of picture and sound not soon to 



212 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

be forgotten. To the European visitors the scene 
was picturesque rather than ghastly, but it was not 
a pleasing spectacle to the old Indian fighters look- 
ing on. There were too many suggestions of blood- 
shed and massacre In the past, and of bloodshed and 
massacre yet to come. 

The Indian buffalo-hunt followed the Terpsicho- 
rean revelry, and all could enjoy the skill and 
strength displayed by the red huntsmen. One war- 
rior, Two-Lance by name, performed a feat that no 
other living Indian could do : he sent an arrow en- 
tirely through the body of a bull running at full 
speed. 

General Sheridan desired that the Grand Duke 
should carry away with him a knowledge of every 
phase of life on the frontier, and when the visitors 
were ready to drive to the railroad station, Will 
was requested to illustrate, for their edification, the 
manner In which a stagecoach and six were driven 
over the Rocky Mountains. 

Will was delighted at the idea; so was Alexis at 
the outset, as he had little idea of what was in store 
for him. The Grand Duke and the general were 
seated In a closed carriage drawn by six horses, and 
were cautioned to fasten their hats securely on their 
heads, and to hang onto the carriage; then Will 
climbed to the driver's seat. 

"Just imagine," said he to his passengers, "that 
fifty Indians are after us." And off went the horses, 
with a jump that nearly spilled the occupants of the 
coach Into the road. 

The three miles to the station were covered in 
just ten minutes, and the Grand Duke had the ride 
of his life. The carriage tossed like a ship in a 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 213 

gale, and no crew ever clung to a life-line with more 
desperate grip than did Will's passengers to their 
seats. Had the fifty Indians of the driver's fancy 
been whooping behind, he would not have plied the 
whip more industriously, or been deafer to the 
groans and ejaculations of his fares. When the 
carriage finally drew up with another teeth-shaking 
jerk, and Will, sombrero in hand, opened the coach 
door to inquire of his Highness how he had enjoyed 
the ride, the Grand Duke replied, with suspicious 
enthusiasm : 

"I would not have missed it for a large sum of 
money; but rather than repeat it, I would return to 
Russia via Alaska, swim Bering Strait, and finish 
my journey on one of your government mules." 

This ride completed a trip which the noble party 
pronounced satisfactory in every detail. The Grand 
Duke invited Will into his private car, where he 
received the thanks of the company for his zeal and 
skill as pilot of a hunting-party. He was also In- 
vited by Alexis to visit him at his palace, should he 
ever make a journey to Russia, and was, moreover, 
the recipient of a number of valuable souvenirs. 

At that time Will had very little thought of cross- 
ing the seas, but he did decide to visit the East, 
whither he had more than once journeyed in fancy. 
The Indians were comparatively quiet, and he read- 
ily obtained a leave of absence. 

The first stopping-place was Chicago, where he 
was entertained by General Sheridan; thence he 
went to New York, to be kindly received by James 
Gordon Bennett, Leonard and Lawrence Jerome, 
J. G. Heckscher, and others, who, it will be re- 
called, were members of the hunting-party of the 



214 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

preceding year. Ned Buntllne also rendered his so- 
journ In the metropolis pleasant in many ways. The 
author had carried out his intention of writing a 
story of Western life with Scout Cody for the hero, 
and the result, having been dramatized, was doing si 
flourishing business at one of the great city*s the- 
atres. Will made one of ^ party that attended a 
performance of the play one evening, and it was 
shortly whispered about the house that "Buffalo 
Bill" himself was in the audience. It is customary 
to call for the author of a play, and no doubt the 
author of this play had been summoned before the 
footlights in due course, but on this night the audi- 
ence demanded the hero. To respond to the call 
was an ordeal for which Will was unprepared; but 
there was no getting out of It, and he faced a storrri 
of applause. The manager of the performance, en- 
terprising like all of his profession, offered Will 
five hundred dollars a week to remain in New York 
and play the part of "Buffalo Bill," but the offer 
was declined with thanks. 

During his stay in the city Will was made the 
guest of honor at sundry luncheons and dinners 
given by his wealthy entertainers. He found con- 
siderable trouble in keeping his appointments at 
first, but soon caught on to the, to him, unreasonable 
hours at which New Yorkers dined, supped, and 
breakfasted. The sense of his social obligations lay 
so heavily on his mind that he resolved to balance 
accounts with a dinner at which he should be the 
host. An Inventory of cash on hand discovered the 
sum of fifty dollars that might be devoted to playing 
Lucullus. Surely that v/ould more than pay for all 
that ten or a dozen men could eat at one meal. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 215 

"However," he said to himself, "I don*t care if it 
takes the whole fifty. It's all in a lifetime, any- 
way." 

In all confidence he hied him to Delmonlco's, at 
which famous restaurant he had incurred a large 
share of his social obligations. He ordered the 
finest dinner that could be prepared for a party of 
twelve, and set as date the night preceding his de- 
parture for the West. The guests were invited with 
genuine Western hospitality. His friends had been 
kind to him, and he desired to show them that a 
man of the West could not only appreciate such 
things, but return them. 

The dinner was a thorough success. Not an in- 
vited guest was absent. The conversation sparkled. 
Quip and repartee shot across the "festive board," 
and all went merry as a dinner-bell. The host was 
satisfied, and proud withal. The next morning he 
approached Delmonlco's cashier with an air of reck- 
less prodigality. 

"My bill, please," said he, and when he got It, he 
looked hard at it for several minutes. It dawned 
on him gradually that his fifty dollars would about 
pay for one plate. As he confided to us afterward, 
that little slip of paper frightened him more than 
could the prospect of a combat single-handed with a 
whole tribe of Sioux Indians. 

Unsophisticated Will ! There was, as he discov- 
ered, a wonderful difference between a dinner at 
Delmonlco's and a dinner on the plains. For the 
one, the four corners of the earth are drawn upon 
to provide the bill of fare; for the other, all one 
needs is an ounce of lead and a charge of powder,, 
a bundle of fagots and a match. 



21 6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

But It would never do to permit the restaurant 
cashier to suspect that the royal entertainer of the 
night before was astonished at his bill; so he re- 
quested that the account be forwarded to his hotel, 
and sought the open air, where he might breathe 
more freely. 

There was but one man In New York to whom he 
felt he could turn In his dilemma, and that was Ned 
Buntllne. One who could Invent plots for stories, 
and extricate his characters from all sorts of embar- 
rassing situations, should be able to Invent a method 
of escape from so* comparatively simple a perplexity 
as a tavern- bill. Will's confidence In the wits of his 
friend Was not unfounded. His first great financial 
panic was safely weathered, but how It was done I 
do not know to this day. 

One of Will's' main reasons for visiting the East 
was to look up our only living relatives on mother's 
side — Colonel Henry R. Guss and family, of West- 
chester, Pennsylvania. Mother's sister, who !'id 
married this gentleman, was not living, and we had 
never met him or any of his family. Ned Buntllne 
accompanied Will on his trip to Westchester. 

To those who have passed through the experi- 
ence of waiting In a- strange drawing-room for the 
coming of relatives one has never seen, and of 
vv^hose personality one has but the vaguest Idea, there 
Is the uncertainty of the reception. Will It be frank 
and hearty, or reserved and doubtful? During the 
few minutes succeeding the giving of his and Bunt- 
line's cards to the servant, Will rather wished that 
the elegant reception-room might be metamorphosed 
into the Western prairie. But presently the en- 
trance to the parlor was brightened by the loveliest 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 217 

girl he had ever looked upon, and following her 
walked a courtly, elegant gentleman. These were 
Cousin Lizzie and Uncle Henry. There was no 
doubt of the quality of the welcome; it was most 
cordial, and Will enjoyed a delightful visit with his 
relatives. For his cousin he conceived an instant 
affection. The love he had held for his mother — 
the purest and strongest of his affections — became 
the heritage of this beautiful girl. 



CHAPTER XXII 

THEATRICAL EXPERIENCES 

The Fifth Cavalry at Fort McPherson had been 
ordered to Arizona, and was replaced by the Third 
Cavalry under command of General Reynolds. 
Upon Will's return to McPherson he was at once 
obliged to take the field to look for Indians that 
had raided the station during his absence and car- 
ried off a considerable number of horses. Captain 
Melnhold and Lieutenant Lawson commanded the 
company dispatched to recover the stolen property. 
Win acted as guide, and had as an assistant T. B. 
Omohundro, better known by his frontier name of 
^Texas Jack." 

Will was not long in finding Indian tracks and 
accompanied by six men, he went forward to locate 
the redskin camp. They had proceeded but a short 
distance when they sighted a small party of Indians, 
with horses grazing. There were just thirteen In- 
dians — an unlucky number — and Will feared that 
they might discover the scouting party should It 
attempt to return to the main command. He had 
but to question his companions to find them ready to 
follow wheresoever he might lead, and they moved 
cautiously toward the Indian camp. 

218 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 219 

At the proper moment the seven rushed upon the 
unsuspecting warriors, who sprang for their horses 
and gave battle. But the rattle of the rifles brought 
Captain Melnhold to. the scene, and when the In- 
dians saw the reinforcements coming up they turned 
and fled. Six of their number were dead on the 
plain, and nearly all of the stolen horses were re- 
covered. One soldier was killed, and this was one 
of the few occasions when Will received a wound. 

And now once more was the versatile plainsman 
called upon to enact a new role. Returning from a 
long scout in the fall of 1872, he found that his 
friends had made him a candidate for the Nebraska 
legislature from the twenty-sixth district. He had 
never thought seriously of politics, and had a well- 
defined doubt of his fitness as a law-maker. He 
made no campaign, but was elected by a flattering 
majority. He was now privileged to prefix the title 
"Honorable'^ to his. name, and later this was sup- 
planted by "Colonel" — a title won in the Nebraska 
National Guard, and which he claims is much bet- 
ter suited to his attainments. 

Will, unlike his father, had no taste for politics or 
for political honors. I recall one answer — so char- 
acteristic of the man — to some friends who were 
urging him to enter the political arena. "No," said 
he, "politics are by far too deep for me. I think I 
can hold my own in any fair and no foul fight; but 
politics seems to me all foul and no fair. I thank 
you, my friends, but I must decline to set out on 
this trail, which I know has more cactus burs to 
the square inch than any I ever followed on the 
plains." 

Meantime Ned Buntline had been nurturing an 



2 20 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

ambitious project. He had been much Impressed 
by the fine appearance made by Will In the New 
York theater, and was confident that a fortune 
awaited the scout If he would consent to enter the 
theatrical profession. He conceived the Idea of 
writing a drama, entitled "The Scout of the Plains," 
In which Will was to assume the title role and shine 
as the star of the first magnitude. The bait he 
dangled was that the play should be made up en- 
tirely of frontier scenes, which would not only en- 
tertain the public, but instruct it. 

The bait was nibbled at, and finally swallowed, 
but there was a proviso that Wild Bill and Texas 
Jack must first be won over to act as "pards" in the 
enterprise. He telegraphed his two friends that he 
needed their aid in an important business matter, 
and went to Chicago to meet them. He was well 
assured that If he had given them an Inkling of the 
nature of the "business matter," neither would put 
in an appearance; but he relied on Ned Buntline's 
persuasive powers, which were well developed. 

There had never been a time when Wild Bill and 
Texas Jack declined to follow Will's lead, and on a 
certain morning the trio presented themselves at the 
Palmer House In Chicago for an Interview with 
Colonel Judson. 

The author could scarcely restrain his delight. 
All three of the scouts were men of fine physique 
and dashing appearance. It was very possible that 
they had one or two things to learn about acting, 
but their Inexperience would be more than balanced 
by their reputation and personal appearance, and 
the knowledge that they were enacting on the stage 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 221 

mock scenes of what to them had oft been stern 
reality. 

"Don't shoot, pards!'' began Will, when the con- 
ference opened. "I guess^ Judson," he continued, 
after vainly trying to find a diplomatic explanation, 
*'you'd better tell them what we want." 

Buntline opened with enthusiasm, but he did not 
kindle Wild Bill and Texas Jack, who looked as if 
they might at any momeat grab their sombreros and 
stampede for the frontier. Will turned the scale. 

"We're bound to make a fortune at it," said he. 
"Try it for a while, anyway." 

The upshot of a long discussion was that the 
scouts gave a reluctant consent to a much-dreaded 
venture. Will made one stipulation. 

"If the Indians get on the rampage," said he, 
"we must be allowed leave of absence to go back and 
settle them." 

"All right, boys," said Buntline.; "that shall be 
put in the contract. And if you're called back into 
the army to fight redskins, I'll go with you." 

This reply established the author firmly in the 
esteem of the scouts. The play was written in four 
hours (most playwrights allow themselves at least 
a week), and the actor-scouts received their "parts." 
Buntline engaged a company to support the stellar 
trio, and the play was widely advertised. 

When the critical "first night" arrived, none of 
the scouts knew a line of his part, but each had ac- 
quired all the varieties of stage fright known to the 
profession. Buntline had hinted to them the possi- 
bility of something of the sort, but they had not 
realized to v/hat a condition of abject dismay a man 
may be reduced by the sight of a few hundred in- 



2 22 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

offensive people in front of a theater curtain. It 
would have done them no good to have told them 
(as is the truth) that many experienced actors have 
touches of stage fright, as well as the unfortunate 
novice. All three declared that they v/ould rather 
face a band of war-painted Indians, or undertake to 
check a herd of stampeding buffaloes, than face the 
peaceful-looking audience that was waiting to criti- 
cise their Thespian efforts. 

Like aliTiOst all amateurs, they Insisted on peer- 
ing through the peep-holes in the curtain, which aug- 
mented their nervousness, and if the persuasive 
Colonel Judson had not been at their elbows, re- 
minding them that he, also, was to take part in the 
play, It Is more than likely they would have slipped 
quietly out at the stage door and bought railway 
passage to the West. 

Presently the curtain rolled up, and the audience 
applauded encouragingly as three quaking six-foot- 
ers, clad In buckskin, made their first bow before the 
footlights. 

I have said that Will did not know a line of his 
part, nor did he when the time to make his opening 
speech arrived. It had been faithfully memorized, 
but oozed from his mind like the courage from Bob 
Acres's finger-tips. "Evidently," thought Buntllne, 
who was on the stage with him, "he needs time to 
recover." So he asked carelessly: 

"What have you been about lately, Bill?" 

This gave "The Scout of the Plains" an inspira- 
tion. In glancing over the audience, he had recog- 
nized in one of the boxes a wealthy gentleman named 
Mllllgan, whom he had once guided on a big hunt 
near McPherson. The expedition had been written 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 223 

up by the Chicago pap'ers, and the incidents of it 
were well known. 

"I've been out on a hunt with Milligan," replied 
Will, and the house came down. Milligan was quite 
popular, but had been the butt of innumerable jokes 
because of his alleged scare over the Indians. The 
applause and laughter that greeted the sally stocked 
the scout with confidence, but confidence is of no use 
If one has forgotten his part. It became manifest 
to the playwright-actor that he would have to pre- 
pare another play in place of the one he had ex- 
pected to perform, and that he must prepare it on 
the spot. 

"Tell us about it, Bill,'* said he, and the prompter 
groaned. 

One of the pleasures of frontier life consists in 
telling stories around the camp-fire. A man who 
ranks as a good frontiersman is pretty sure to be a 
good raconteur. Will was at ease immediately, and 
proceeded to relate the story of Milligan's hunt in 
his own words. That it was amusing was attested 
by the frequent rounds of applause. The prompt- 
er, with a commendable desire to get things running 
smoothly, tried again and again to give Will his cue, 
but even cues had been forgotten. 

The dialogue of that performance must have' 
been delightfully absurd. Neither Texas Jack nor 
Wild Bill was able to utter a line of his part during 
the entire evening. In the Indian scenes, however, 
they scored a great success; here was work that did 
not need to be painfully memorized, and the mock 
red men were slain at an astonishing rate. 

Financially the play proved all that its projectors 
could ask for. Artistically — well, the critics had a 



2 24 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

great deal of fun with the hapless dramatist. The 
professionals in the company had played their parts 
acceptably, and, oddly enough, the scouts were let 
down gently in the criticisms; but the critics had no 
means of knowing that the stars of the piece had 
provided their own dialogue, and poor Ned Bunt- 
line was plastered with ridicule. It had got out that 
the play was written in four hours, and in mention- 
ing this fact, one paper wondered, with delicate sar- 
casm, what the dramatist had been doing all that 
time. Buntline had played the part of "Gale Durg," 
who met death in the second act, and a second pa- 
per, commenting on this, suggested that It would 
have been a happy consummation had the death oc- 
curred before the play was written. A third critic 
pronounced it a drama that might be begun In the 
middle and played both ways, or played backward, 
quite as well as the way in which It had been 
written. 

However, nothing succeeds like success. A num- 
ber of managers offered to take hold of the com- 
pany, and others asked for entrance to the enter- 
prise as partners. Ned Buntline took his medicine 
from the critics with a smiling face, fov "let him 
laugh who wins." 

The scouts soon got over their stage fright. In 
the course of time were able to remember their 
parts, and did fully their share toward making the 
play as much of a success artistically as It was finan- 
cially. From Chicago the company went to St. 
Louis, thence to Cincinnati and other large cities, 
and everywhere drew large and appreciative houses. 

When the season closed, in Boston, and Will had 
made his preparations to return to Nebraska, an 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 225 

English gentleman named Medley, presented him- 
self, with a request that the scout act as guide on a 
big hunt and camping trip through Western terri- 
tory. The pay offered was liberal — a thousand dol- 
lars a month and expenses — and Will accepted the 
offer. He spent that summer in his old occupation, 
and the ensuing winter continued his tour as a star 
of the drama. Wild Bill and Texas Jack consented 
again to "support" him, but the second season 
proved too much for the patience of the former, 
and he attempted to break through the contract he 
had signed for the season. The manager, of course, 
refused to release him, but Wild Bill conceived the 
notion that under certain circumstances the com- 
pany would be glad to get rid of him. 

That night he put his plan into execution by dis- 
charging his blank cartridges so near the legs of 
the dead Indians on the stage that the startled 
*'supers" came to life with more realistic yells than 
had accompanied their deaths. This was a bit of 
''business" not called for in the play-book, and while 
the audience was vastly entertained, the manage- 
ment withheld its approval. 

Will was delegated to expostulate with the reck- 
less Indian-slayer; but Wild Bill remarked calmly 
that he "hadn't hurt the fellows any," and he con- 
tinued to indulge in his innocent pastime. 

Severe measures were next resorted to. He was 
informed that he must stop shooting the Indians 
after they were dead, or leave the company. This 
was what Wild Bill had hoped for, and when the 
curtain went up on the next performance he was to 
be seen in the audience, enjoying the play for the 
first time since he had been mixed up with it. 



226 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

Will sympathized with his former "support," 
but he had a duty to perform, and faithfully en- 
deavored to persuade the recreant actor to return to 
the company. Persuasion went for nothing, so the 
contract was annulled, and Wild Bill returned to 
his beloved plains. 

The next season Will removed his family to 
Rochester, and organized a theatrical company of 
his own. There was too much artificiality about 
stage life to suit one that had been accustomed to 
stern reality, and he sought to do away with this as 
much as possible by introducing into his own com- 
pany a band of real Indians. The season of 1875- 
76 opened brilliantly; the company played to crowd- 
ed houses, and Will made a large financial success. 

One night In April, when the season was nearlng 
its close, a telegram was handed to him, just as he 
was about to step upon the stage. It v/as from his 
wife, and summoned him to Rochester, to the bed- 
side of his only son. Kit Carson Cody. He con- 
sulted with his manager, and it was arranged that 
after the first act he should be excused that he might 
catch the train. 

The first act was a miserable experience, though 
the audience did not suspect that the actor's heart 
was almost stopped by fear and anxiety. He caught 
his train, and the manager, John Burke, an actor of 
much experience, played out the part. 

It was, too, a miserable ride to Rochester, filled 
up with the gloomiest of forebodings, heightened by 
memories of every incident in the precious little life 
now In danger. 

Kit was a handsome child, with striking features 
and curly hair. His mother always dressed hira in. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 227 

the finest clothes, and tempted by these combined 
attractions, gypsies had carried him away the previ- 
ous summer. But Kit was the son of a scout, and 
his young eyes were sharp. He marked the trail 
followed by his captors, and at the first opportunity 
gave them the slip and got safely home, exclaiming 
as he toddled Into the sobbing family circle, *'I 
tumed back adain, mama; don't cry." Despite his 
anxiety. Will smiled at the recollection of the season 
when his little son had been a regular visitor at the 
theater. The little fellow knew that the most im- 
portant feature of a dramatic performance, from 
a management's point of view, is a large audience. 
He watched the seats fill in keen anxiety, and the 
moment the curtain rose and his father appeared on 
the stage, he would make a trumpet of his little 
hands, and shout from his box, *'Good house, papa !'^ 
The audience learned to expect and enjoy this bit 
of by-play between father and son. His duty per- 
formed. Kit settled himself in his seat, and gave 
himself up to undisturbed enjoyment of the play. 

When Will reached Rochester he found his son 
still alive, though beyond the reach of medical aid. 
He was burning up with fever, but still conscious, 
and the little arms were joyfully lifted to clasp 
around his father's neck. He lingered during the 
next day and Into the night, but the end came, and 
Will faced a great sorrow of his life. He had built 
fond hopes, for his son, and In a breath they had 
been swept away. His boyhood musings over the 
prophecy of the fortune-teller had taken a turn when 
his own boy was born. It might be Kit's destiny to 
become President of the United States; It was not 
his own. Now, hope and fear had vanished to- 



228 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

gether, the fabric of the dream had dissolved, and 
left "not a rack behind." 

Little Kit was laid to rest in Mount Hope Ceme- 
tery, April 24, 1876. He is not dead, but sleeping; 
not lost, but gone before. He has joined the innu- 
merable company of the white-souled throng in the 
regions of the blest. He has gone to aid my mother 
in her mission unfulfilled — that of turning heaven- 
ward the eyes of those that loved them so dearly 
here on earth. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

THE government's INDIAN POLICY 

Very glad was the sad-hearted father that the 
theatrical season was so nearly over. The mummer- 
ies of the stage life were more distasteful to him 
than ever when he returned to his company with his 
crushing grief fresh upon him. He played nightly 
to crowded houses, but it was plain that his heart 
was not in his work. A letter from Colonel Mills, 
informing him that his services were needed in the 
army, came as a welcome relief. He canceled his 
few remaining dates, and disbanded his company 
with a substantial remuneration. 

This was the spring of the Centennial year. It 
has also been called the "Custer year," for during 
that summer the gallant general and his heroic 
Three Hundred fell in their unequal contest with 
Sitting Bull and his warriors. 

Sitting Bull was one of the ablest chiefs and fight- 
ers the Sioux nation ever produced. He got his 
name from the fact that once when he had shot a 
buffalo he sprang astride of it to skin It, and the 
wounded bull rose on its haunches with the Indian 
on its back. He combined native Indian cunning 
with the strategy and finesse needed to make a great 
general, and his ability as a leader v/as conceded 

229 



230 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

alike by red and white man. A dangerous man at 
best, the wrongs his people had suffered roused all 
his Indian cruelty, vindlctlveness, hatred, and thirst 
for revenge. 

The Sioux war of 1876 had Its origin, like most 
of its predecessors and successors, In an act of in- 
justice on the part of the United States government 
and a violation of treaty rights. 

In 1868 a treaty had been made with the Sioux, 
by which the Black Hills country was reserved for 
their exclusive use, no settling by white men to be 
allowed. In 1874 gold was discovered, and the 
usual gold fever was followed by a rush of whites 
Into the Indian country. The Sioux naturally re- 
sented the Intrusion, and instead of attempting to 
placate them, to the end that the treaty might be 
revised, the government sent General Custer into 
the Black Hills with Instructions to intimidate the 
Indians into submission. But Custer was too wise, 
too familiar with Indian nature, to adhere to his in- 
structions to the letter. Under cover of a flag of 
truce, a council was arranged. At this gathering 
coffee, sugar, and bacon were distributed among the 
Indians, and along with those commodities Custer 
handed around some advice. This was to the effect 
that it would be to the advantage of the Sioux If 
they permitted the miners to occupy the gold coun- 
try. The coffee, sugar, and bacon were accepted 
thankfully by Lo, but no nation, tribe, or individual 
since the world began has ever welcomed advice. 
It was thrown away on Lo. He received It with 
such an air of indifference and in such a stoical si- 
lence that General Custer had no hope his mission 
had succeeded. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 231' 

In 1875 General Crook was sent into the Hills to 
make a farcical demonstration of the government's 
desire to maintain good faith, but no one was de- 
ceived, the Indians least of all. In August, Custer 
City was laid out, and In two weeks its population 
numbered six hundred. General Crook drove out 
the inhabitants, and as he marched triumphantly out 
of one end of the village the people marched in 
again at the other. 

The result of this continued bad faith was 
Inevitable; everywhere the Sioux rose in arms. 
Strange as it might seem to one who has not fol- 
lowed the government's remarkable Indian policy, 
It had dispensed firearms to the Indians with a gen- 
erous hand. The government's Indian policy, con- 
densed, was to stock the red man with rifles and 
cartridges, and then provide him with a first-class 
reason for using them against the whites. During 
May, June, and July of that year the Sioux had re- 
ceived 1,120 Remington and Winchester rifles and 
13,000 rounds of patent ammunition. During that 
year they received several thousand stands of arms 
and more than a million rounds of ammunition, and 
for three years before that they had been regularly 
supplied with weapons. The Sioux uprising of 1876 
was expensive for the government. One does not 
have to go far to find the explanation. 

Will expected to join General Crook, but on 
reaching Chicago he found that General Carr was 
still In command of the Fifth Cavalry, and had sent a 
request that Will return to his old regiment. Carr 
was at Cheyenne ; thither Will hastened at once. He 
was met at the station by Captain Charles King, 
the well-known author, and later serving as briga- 



232 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

dier-general at Manila, then adjutant of the regi- 
ment. As the pair rode into camp the cry went up : 
"Here comes Buffalo Bill!" Three ringing cheers 
expressed the delight of the troopers over his re- 
turn to his old command, and Will was equally de- 
lighted to meet his quondam companions. He was 
appointed guide and chief of scouts, and the regi- 
ment proceeded to Laramie. From there they were 
ordered into the Black Hills country, and Colonel 
Merritt replaced General Carr. 

The incidents of Custer's fight and fall are so well 
known that it is not necessary to repeat them here. 
It was a better light than the famous charge of the 
Light Brigade at Balaklava, for not one of the three 
hundred came forth from the "jaws of death." As 
at Balaklava, "some one had blundered," not once, 
but many times, and Custer's command discharged 
the entire debt with their lifeblood. 

When the news of the tragedy reached the main 
army, preparations were made to move against the 
Indians in force. The Fifth Cavalry was instructed 
to cut off, if possible, eight hundred Cheyenne war- 
riors on their way to join the Sioux, and Colonel 
Wesley Merritt, with five hundred men, hastened to 
Hat, or War-Bonnet, Creek, purposing to reach the 
trail before the Indians could do so. The creek 
was reached on the 17th of July, and at daylight 
the following morning Will rode forth to ascertain 
whether the Cheyennes had crossed the trail. They 
had not, but that very day the scout discerned the 
warriors coming up from the south. 

Colonel Merritt ordered his men to mount their 
horses, but to remain out of sight, while he, v/ith 
his adjutant, Charles King, accompanied Will on a 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 233 

tour of observation. The Cheyennes came directly 
toward the troops, and presently fifteen or twenty 
of them dashed off to the west along the trail the 
army had followed the night before. Through his 
glass Colonel Merritt remarked two soldiers on the 
trail, doubtless couriers with dispatches, and these 
the Indians manifestly designed to cut off. \¥ill 
suggested that it would be well to wait until the war- 
riors were on the point of charging the couriers, 
when, if the colonel were willing, he would take a 
party of picked men and cut off the hostile delega- 
tion from the main body, which was just coming 
over the divide. 

The colonel acquiesced, and Will, galloping back 
to camp, returned with fifteen men. The couriers 
were some four hundred yards away, and their In- 
dian pursuers two hundred behind them. Colonel 
Merritt gave the word to charge, and Will and his 
men skurrled toward the redskins. 

In the skirmish that ensued three Indians were 
killed. The rest started for the main band of war- 
riors, who had halted to watch the fight, but they 
were so hotly pursued by the soldiers that they 
turned at a point half a mile distant from Colonel 
Merritt, and another skirmish took place. 

Here something a little out of the usual occurred 
— a challenge to a duel. A warrior, whose decora- 
tions and war-bonnet proclaimed him a chief, rode 
out in front of his men, and called out In his own 
tongue, which Will could understand: 

"I know you, Pa-has-ka ! Come and fight me, if 
you want to fight!" 

Will rode forward fifty yards, and the warrior 
advanced a like distance. The two rifles spoke, and 



234 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the Indian's horse fell? but at the same moment 
Will's horse stumbled into a gopher-hole and threw 
its rider. Both duelists were instantly on their feet, 
confronting each other across a space of not more 
than twenty paces. They fired again simultaneously, 
and though Will was unhurt, the Indian fell dead. 

The duel over, some two hundred warriors dash,- 
ed up to recover the chieftain's body and to avenge 
his death. It was now Colonel Merrltt's turn to 
move. He dispatched a company of soldiers to 
Will's aid, and then ordered the whole regiment to 
the charge. As the soldiers advanced. Will swung 
the Indian's topknot and war-bonnet which he had 
secured, and shouted, "The first scalp for Custer!" 

The Indians made a stubborn resistance, but as 
they found this useless, began a retreat toward Red 
Cloud agency, whence they had come. The retreat 
continued for thirty-five miles, the troops following 
into the agency. The fighting blood of the Fifth 
was at fever heat, and they were ready to encounter 
the thousands of warriors at the agency should they 
exhibit a desire for battle. But they manifested no 
such desire. 

Will learned that the name of the chief he had 
killed that morning was "Yellow Hand." He was 
the son of "Cut Nose," a leading spirit among the 
Cheyennes. This old chieftain offered Will four 
mules if he would return the war-bonnet and ac- 
couterments worn by the young warrior and cap- 
tured In the fight, but Will did not grant the re- 
quest, much as he pitied Cut Nose in his grief. 

The Fifth Calvary on the following morning 
started on Its march to join General Crook's com- 
mand In the Big Horn Mountains. The two com- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 235 

mands united forces on the 3rd of August, and 
marched to the confluence of the Powder River with 
the Yellowstone. Here General Miles met them, to 
report that no Indians had crossed the stream. 

No other fight occurred; but Will made himself 
useful in his capacity of scout. There were many 
long, hard rides, carrying dispatches that no one else 
would volunteer to bear. When he was assured 
that the fighting was all over, he took passage, in 
September, on the steamer *'Far West,'' and sailed 
down the Missouri. 

People in the Eastern States were wonderfully 
Interested in the stirring events on the frontier, and 
Will conceived the idea of putting the Incidents of 
the Sioux war upon the stage. Upon his return to 
Rochester he had a play written for his purpose, 
organized a company, and opened his season. Pre- 
viously he had paid a flying visit to Red Cloud 
agency, and induced a number of Sioux Indians to 
take part In his drama. 

The red men had no such painful experience as 
Wild Bill and Texas Jack. All they were expected 
to do In the way of acting was what came natural 
to them. Their part was to Introduce a bit of 
*'local color," to give a war-dance, take part in a 
skirmish, or exhibit themselves in some typical In- 
dian fashion. 

At the close of this season Will bought a large 
tract of land near North Platte, and started a cat- 
tle-ranch. He already owned one some distance 
to the northward. In partnership with Major North, 
the leader of the Pawnee scouts. Their friendship 
had strengthened since their first meeting, ten years 
before. 



236 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

In this new ranch Will takes great pride. He 
has added to its area until It now covers seven thou- 
sand acres, and he has developed Its resources to the 
utmost. Twenty-five hundred acres are devoted to 
alfalfa and twenty-five hundred sown to corn. One 
of the features of interest to visitors is a wooded 
park, containing a number of deer and young buffa- 
loes. Near the park is a beautiful lake. In the 
center of the broad tract of land stands the pictur- 
esque building known as "Scout^s Rest Ranch,'* 
which, seen from the foothills, has the appearance 
of an old castle. 

The ranch Is one of the most beautiful spots that 
one can imagine, and is, besides, an object-lesson in 
the value of scientific Investigation and experiment 
joined with persistence and perseverance. When 
Will bought the property he was an enthusiastic be- 
liever in the possibilities of Nebraska development. 
His brother-in-law, Mr. Goodman, was put in 
charge of the place. 

The whole Platte Valley formed part of the dis- 
trict once miscalled the Great American Desert. It 
was an idea commonly accepted, but, as the sequel 
proved, erroneous, that lack of moisture was the 
cause of lack of vegetation. An Irrigating ditch was 
constructed on the ranch, trees were planted, and It 
was hoped that with such an abundance of moisture 
they would spring up like weeds. Vain hope ! There 
was "water, water everywhere," but not a tree 
would grow. 

Will visited his old Kansas home, and the sight 
of tall and stately trees filled him with a desire to 
transport some of this beauty to his Nebraska 
ranch. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 237 

"I'd give five hundred dollars," said he, "for 
every tree I had like that in Nebraska !" 

Impressed by the proprietor's enthusiasm for 
arboreal development, Mr. Goodman began investi- 
gation and experiment. It took him but a short 
time to acquire a knowledge of the deficiencies of 
the soil, and this done, the bigger half of the prob- 
lem was solved. 

Indian legend tells us that this part of our coun- 
try was once an inland sea. There is authority for 
the statement that to-day it is a vast subterranean 
reservoir, and the conditions warrant the assertion. 
The soil in all the region has a depth only of from 
one to three feet, while underlying the shallow ar- 
able deposit is one immense bedrock, varying in 
thickness, the average being from three to six feet. 
Everywhere water may be tapped by digging 
through the thin soil and boring through the rock 
formation. The country gained its reputation as a 
desert, not from lack of moisture, but from lack of 
soil. In the pockets of the foothills, where a greater 
depth of soil had accumulated from the washings of 
the slopes above, beautiful little groves of trees 
might be found, and the islands of the Platte River 
were heavily wooded. Everywhere else was a tree- 
less waste. 

The philosophy of the transformation from sea 
to plain is not fully understood. The most tenable 
theory yet advanced is that the bedrock is an alka- 
line deposit, left by the waters in a gradually widen- 
ing and deepening margin. On this the prairie wind 
sifted its accumulation of dust, and the rain washed 
down its quota from the bank above. In the slow 
process of countless years the rock formation ex- 



238 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

tended over the whole sea; the alluvial deposit deep- 
ened; seeds lodged in it, and the buffalo-grass and 
sage-brush began to grow, their yearly decay adding 
to the ever-thickening layer of soil. 

Having learned the secret of the earth, Mr. 
Goodman devoted himself to the study of the trees. 
He investigated those varieties having lateral roots, 
to determine which would flourish best in a shallow 
soil. He experimented, he failed, and he tried 
again. All things come round to him who will but 
work. Many experiments succeeded the first, and 
many failures followed in their turn. But at last, 
like Archimedes, he could cry *'Eureka ! I have 
found it!" In a very short time he had the ranch 
charmingly laid out with rows of cottonwoods, box- 
elder, and other members of the tree family. The 
ranch looked like an oasis in the desert, and neigh- 
bors inquired into the secret of the magic that had 
worked so marvelous a transformation. The 
streets of North Platte are now beautiful with trees, 
and adjoining farms grow many more. It Is 
*'Scout's Rest Ranch," however, that is pointed out 
with pride to travelers on the Union Pacific Rail- 
road. 

Mindful of his resolve to one day have a resi- 
dence in North Platte, Will purchased the site on 
which his first residence was erected. His family 
had sojourned in Rochester for several years, and 
when they returned to the West the new home was 
built according to the wishes and under the super- 
vision of the wife and mother. To the dwelling 
was given the name ^'Welcome Wigwam." 



CHAPTER XXIV 

LITERARY WORK 

It was during this period of his life that my 
brother's first literary venture was made. As the 
reader has seen, his school-days were few in num- 
ber, and as he told Mr. Majors, in signing his first 
contract with him, he could use a rifle better than a 
pen. A life of constant action on the frontier does 
not leave a man much time for acquiring an educa- 
tion; so It is no great wonder that the first sketch 
Will wrote for publication was destitute of punctua- 
tion and short of capitals in many places. His at- 
tention was directed to these shortcomings, but 
Western life had cultivated a disdain for petty 
things. 

''Life Is too short," said he, "to make big letters 
when small ones will do; and as for punctuation, if 
my readers don't know enough to take their breath 
without those little marks, they'll have to lose it, 
that's all." 

But in spite of his jesting, it was characteristic of 
him that when he undertook anything he wished to 
do it well. He now had leisure for study, and he 
used it to such good advantage that he was soon 
able to send to the publishers a clean manuscript, 

239 



240 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

grammatical, and well spelled, capitalized, and 
punctuated. The publishers appreciated the im- 
provement, though they had sought after his work 
in its crude state, and paid good prices for it. 

Our author would never consent to write any- 
thing except actual scenes from border life. As a 
sop to the Cerberus of sensationalism, he did oc- 
casionally condescend to heighten his effects by ex- 
aggeration. In sending one story to the publisher 
he wrote : 

*'I am sorry to have to lie so outrageously in this 
yarn. My hero has killed more Indians on one war- 
trail than I have killed in all my life. But I under- 
stand this is what is expected in border tales. If 
you think the revolver and bowie-knife are used 
too freely, you may cut out a fatal shot or stab 
wherever you deem it wise.'' 

Even this story, which one accustomed to border 
life confessed to be exaggerated, fell far short of 
the sensational and blood-curdling tales usually 
written, and was published exactly as the author 
wrote it. 

During the summer of 1877 I paid a visit to our 
relatives in Westchester, Pennsylvania. My hus- 
band had lost all his wealth before his death, and I 
was obliged to rely upon my brother for support. 
To meet a widespread demand, Will this summer 
wrote his autobiography. It was published at Hart- 
ford, Connecticut, and I, anxious to do something 
for myself, took the general agency of the book for 
the state of Ohio, spending a part of the summer 
there in pushing its sale. But I soon tired of a 
business life, and turning over the agency to other 
hands, went from Cleveland to visit Will at his new 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 241 

home in North Platte, where there were a number 
of other guests at the time. 

Besides his cattle-ranch in the vicinity of North 
Platte, Will had another ranch on the Dismal River, 
sixty-five miles north, touching the Dakota line. 
One day he remarked to us : 

"I'm sorry to leave you to your own resources 
for a few days, but I must take a run up to my ranch 
on Dismal River." 

Not since our early Kansas trip had I had an ex- 
perience in camping out, and in those days I was 
almost too young to appreciate it; but it had left me 
with a keen desire to try it again. 

*'Let us all go with you, Will," I exclaimed. "We 
can camp out on the road." 

Our friends added their approval, and Will fell 
in with the suggestion at once. 

"There's no reason why you can't go if you wish 
to," said he. Will owned numerous conveyances, 
and was able to provide ways and means to carry us 
all comfortably. Lou and the two little girls, Arta 
and Ora, rode in an open phaeton. There were 
covered carriages, surreys, and a variety of turn- 
outs to transport the invited guests. Several promi- 
nent citizens of North Platte were invited to join 
the party, and when our arrangements were com- 
pleted we numbered twenty-five. 

Will took a caterer along, and made ample pro- 
visions for the inner man and woman. He knew, 
from long experience, that a camping trip without an 
abundance of food is rather a dreary affair. 

All of us except Will were out for pleasure solely, 
and we found time to enjoy ourselves even during 
the first day's ride of twenty-five miles. As we 



242 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

looked around at the new and wild scenes while the 
tents were pitched for the night, Will led the ladies 
of the party to a tree, saying: 

"You are the first white women whose feet have 
trod this region. Carve your names here, and cele- 
brate the event." 

After a good night's rest and a bounteous break- 
fast, we set out in high spirits, and were soon far 
out in the foothills. 

One who has never seen these peculiar forma- 
mations can have but little idea of them. On every 
side, as far as the eye can see, undulations of earth 
stretch away like the waves of the ocean, and on 
them no vegetation flourishes save buffalo-grass, 
sage-brush, and the cactus, blooming but thorny. 

The second day I rode horseback, in company 
with Will and one or two others of the party, over 
a constant succession of hill and vale; we mounted 
an elevation and descended its farther side, only to 
be confronted by another hill. The horseback party 
was somewhat in advance of those in carriages. 

From the top of one hill Will scanned the country 
with his field-glass, and remarked that some deer 
were headed our way, and that we should have fresh 
venison for dinner. He directed us to ride down 
into the valley and tarry there, so that we might 
not startle the timid animals, while he continued 
part way up the hill and halted in* position to get a 
good shot at the first one that came over the knolL 
A fawn presently bounded into view, and Will 
brought his rifle to his shoulder; but much to our 
surprise, instead of firing, dropped the weapon to 
his side. Another fawn passed him before he fired, 
and as the little creature fell we rode up to Will and 



m 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 243 

began chaffing him unmercifully, one gentleman re- 
marking: 

*'It is difficult to believe we are in the presence of 
the crack shot of America, when we see him allow 
two deer to pass by before he brings one down." 

But to the laughing and chafing Will answered 
not a word, and recalling the childish story I had 
heard of his buck fever, I wondered if, at this late 
date, it were possible for him to have another attack 
of that kind. The deer was handed over to the 
commissary department, and we rode on. 

"Will, what was the matter with you just now?" 
I asked him privately. "Why didn't you shoot that 
first deer; did you have another attack like you had 
when you were a little boy?" 

He rode along in silence for a few moments, and 
then turned to me with the query : 

"Did you ever look into a deer's eyes?" And as 
I replied that I had not, he continued : 

"Every one has his little weakness; mine is a 
deer's eye. I don't want you to say anything about 
it to your friends, for they would laugh more than 
ever, but the fact is I have never yet been able to 
shoot a deer if it looked me in the eye. With a 
buffalo, or a bear, or an Indian, it is different. But 
a deer has the eye of a trusting child, soft, gentle, 
and confiding. No one but a brute could shoot a 
deer if he caught that look. The first that came 
over the knoll looked straight at me ; I let it go by, 
and did not look at the second until I was sure it 
had passed me." 

He seemed somewhat ashamed of his soft-heart- 
edness; yet to me it was but one of many little in- 



244 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

cidents that revealed a side of his nature the rough 
life of the frontier had not corrupted. 

Will expected to reach the Dismal River on the 
third day, and at noon of it he remarked that he 
had better ride ahead and give notice of our coming, 
for the man who looked after the ranch had his 
wife with him, and she would likely be dismayed at 
the thought of preparing supper for so large a 
crowd on a minute's notice. 

Sister Julia's son. Will Goodman, a lad of fif- 
teen, was of our party, and he offered to be the 
courier. 

''Are you sure you know the way?" asked his 
uncle. 

"Oh, yes," was the confident response; "you 
know I have been over the road with you before, 
and I know just how to go." 

"Well, tell me how you would go." 

Young Will described the trail so accurately that 
his uncle concluded it would be safe for him to un- 
dertake the trip, and the lad rode ahead, happy and 
important. 

It was late in the afternoon when we reached the 
ranch, and the greeting of the overseer was: 

"Well, well; what's all this?" 

"Didn't you know we were coming?" asked Will 
quickly. "Hasn't Will Goodman been here?" The 
ranchman shook his head. 

• "Haven't seen him, sir," he replied, ^'since he was 
here with you before." 

"Well, he'll be along," said Will, quietly; but I 
detected a ring of anxiety in his voice. "Go into 
the house and make yourselves comfortable," he 
gdded. "It will be some time before a meal can be 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 245 

prepared for such a supper party." We entered the 
house, but he remained outside, and mounting the 
stile that served as a gate, examined the nearer hills 
with his glass. There was no sign of Will, Jr. ; so 
the ranchman was directed to dispatch five or six 
men in as many directions to search for the boy, and 
as they hastened away on their mission Will re- 
mained* on the stile, running his fingers every few 
minutes through the hair over his forehead — a 
characteristic action with him when worried. Think- 
ing I might reassure him, I came out and chided 
him gently for what I was pleased to regard as his 
needless anxiety. It was Impossible for Willie to 
lose his way very long, I explained, without know- 
ing anything about my subject. "See how far you 
can look over these hills. It is not as If he were in 
the woods," said I. 

Will looked at me steadily and pityingly for a 
moment. "Go- back In the house, Nell," said he, 
with a touch of Impatience; "you don't know what 
you are talking about." 

That was true enough, but when I returned obedi- 
ently to the house I repeated my opinion that worry 
over the absent boy was needless, for it would be 
difficult, I declared, for one to lose him.self where 
the range of vision was so extensive as It was from 
the top of one of these foothills. 

"But suppose," said one of the party, "that you 
v/ere In the valley .behind one of the foothills — what 
then?" 

This led to an animated discussion as to the dan- 
ger of getting lost In this long-range locality, and in 
the midst of It Will walked In, his equanimity quite 
restored. 



246 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

''It's all right," said he; "I can see the youngster 
coming along." 

We flocked to the stile, and discovered a moving 
speck in the distance. Looked at through the field- 
glasses, it proved to be the belated courier. Then 
we appealed to Will to settle the question that had 
been under discussion. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," he answered impres- 
sively, "if one of you were lost among these foot- 
hills, and a whole regiment started out in search 
of you, the chances are ten to one that you would 
starve to death, to say the least, before you could be 
found." 

To find the way with ease and locate the trail un- 
erringly over an endless and monotonous succession 
of hills identical in appearance is an ability the In- 
dian possesses, but few are the white men that can 
imitate the aborigine. I learned afterward that it 
was accounted one of Will's great accomplishments 
as a scout that he was perfectly at home among the 
frozen waves of the prairie ocean. 

When the laggard arrived, and was pressed for 
particulars, he declared he had traveled eight or ten 
miles when he found that he was off the trail. "I 
thought I was lost," said he; "but after considering 
the matter I decided that I had one chance — that 
was to go back over my own tracks. The marks of 
my horse's hoofs led me out on the main trail, and 
your tracks were so fresh that I had no further 
trouble." 

"Pretty good," said Will, patting the boy's shoul- 
der. "Pretty good. You have some of the Cody 
blood in you, that's plain." 

The next day was passed in looking over the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 247 

ranch, and the day following we visited, at Will's 
solicitation, a spot that he had named "The Garden 
of the Gods." Our thoughtful host had sent ranch- 
men ahead to prepare the place for our reception, 
and we were as surprised and delighted as he could 
desire. A patch on the river's brink was filled with 
tall and stately trees and luxuriant shrubs, laden 
with fruits and flowers, while birds of every hue 
nested and sang about us. It was a miniature para- 
dise in the midst of a desert of sage-brush and buffa- 
lo-grass. The interspaces of the grove were covered 
with rich green grass, and in one of these nature- 
carpeted nooks the workmen, under Will's direction, 
had put up an arbor, with rustic seats and table. 
Herein we ate our luncheon, and every sense was 
pleasured. 

As it was not likely that the women of the party 
would ever see the place again, so remote was it 
from civilization, belonging to the as yet uninhabited 
part of the Western plains, we decided to explore it, 
in the hope of finding something that would serve 
as a souvenir. We had not gone far when we found 
ourselves out of Eden and in the desert that sur- 
rounded it, but It was the desert that held our great 
discovery. On an isolated elevation stood a lone, 
tall tree, in the topmost branches of which reposed 
what seemed to be a large package. As soon as 
our imaginations got fairly to work the package 
became the hidden treasure of some prairie bandit, 
and while two of the party returned for our mascu- 
line forces the rest of us kept guard over the cachet 
in the treetop. Will came up with the others, and 
when we pointed out to him the supposed chest of 
gold he smiled, saying that he was sorry to dissipate 



248 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the hopes which the ladies had built in the tree, but 
that they were not gazing upon anything of intrinsic 
value, but on the open sepulchre of some departed 
brave. "It is a wonder," he remarked laughingly, 
"you women didn't catch on to the skeleton in that 
closet." 

As we retraced our steps, somewhat crestfallen, 
we listened to the tale of another of the red man's 
superstitions. 

When some great chief, v/ho particularly disting- 
uishes himself on the war-path, loses his life on the 
battle-field without losing his scalp, he is regarded 
as especially favored by the Great Spirit. A more 
exalted sepulchre than mother earth is deemed fit- 
ting for such a warrior. Accordingly he is wrapped 
in his blanket-shroud, and, in his war paint and 
feathers and with his weapons by his side, he is 
placed in the top of the highest tree in the neigh- 
borhood, the spot thenceforth being sacred against 
intrusion for a certain number of moons. At the 
end of that period messengers are dispatched to 
ascertain if the remains have been disturbed. If 
they have not, the departed is esteemed a spirit 
chief, who, in the happy hunting-grounds, intercedes 
for and leads on to sure victory the warriors who 
trusted to his leadership in the material world. 

We bade a reluctant adieu to the idyllic retreat, 
and threw it many a backward glance as we took our 
way over the desert that stretched between us and 
the ranch. Here another night was passed, and then 
we set out for home. The brief sojourn "near to 
Nature's heart" had been a delightful experience, 
holding for many of us the charm of novelty, and 
for all recreation and pleasant comradeship. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 249 

With the opening of the theatrical season Will re- 
turned to the stage, and his histrionic career contin- 
ued for five years longer. As an actor he achieved 
a certain kind of success. He played in every large 
city of the United States, always to crowded houses, 
and was everywhere received with enthusiasm. 
There was no doubt of his financial success, what- 
ever criticisms might be passed on the artistic side 
of his performance. It was his personality and rep- 
utation that interested his audiences. They did 
not expect the art of Sir Henry Irving, and you may 
be sure that they did not receive it. 

Will never enjoyed this part of his career; he en- 
dured It simply because It was the means to an end. 
He had not forgotten his boyish dream — his resolve 
that he would one day present to the world an ex- 
hibition that would give a realistic picture of life In 
the Far West, depicting Its dangers and privations, 
as well as Its picturesque phases. His first theatrical 
season had shown him how favorably such an exhi- 
bition would be received, and his long-cherished am- 
bition began to take shape. He knew that an enor- 
mous amount of money would be needed, and to ac- 
quire such a sum he lived for many years behind the 
footlights. 

I was present in a Leavenworth theatre during 
one of his last performances — one in which he 
played the part of a loving swain to a would-be 
charming lassie. When the curtain fell on the last 
act I went behind the scenes, In company with a party 
of friends, and congratulated the star upon his excel- 
lent acting. 

*'0h, Nellie,'^ he groaned, "don't say anything 
about it. If heaven will fordve me this foolish- 



250 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 
ness, I promise to quit It forever when this season 



is over." 



That was the way he felt about the stage, so far 
as his part In It was concerned. He was a fish out 
of water. The feeble pretensions to a stern reality, 
and the mock dangers exploited, could not but fall 
to seem trivial to one who had lived the very scenes 
depicted. 



CHAPTER XXV 

FIRST VISIT TO THE VALLEY OF THE BIG HORN 

My brother was again bereaved In 1880 by the 
death of his little daughter, Orra. At her own re- 
quest, Orra's body was Interred In Rochester, In 
beautiful Mount Hope Cemetery, by the side of little 
Kit Carson. 

But joy follows upon sadness, and the summer 
before Will spent his last season on the stage was 
a memorable one for him. It marked the birth of 
another daughter, who was christened Irma. This 
daughter Is the very apple of her father's eye; to 
her he gives the affection that Is her due, and round 
her clings the halo of the tender memories of the 
other two that have departed this life. 

This year, 1882, was also the one In which Will 
paid his first visit to the valley of the Big Horn. He 
had often traversed the outskirts of that region, and 
heard Incredible tales from Indians and trappers of 
its wonders and beauties, but he had yet to explore 
it himself. In his early experience as Pony Ex- 
press rider, California Joe had related to him the 
first story he had heard of the enchanted basin, and 
in 1875, when he was In charge of a large body of 
Arapahoe Indians that had been permitted to leave 

251 



252 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

their reservation for a big hunt, he obtained more 
details. 

The agent warned Will that some of the Indians 
were dissatisfied, and might attempt to escape, but 
to all appearances, though he watched them sharply, 
they were entirely content. Game was plentiful, the 
weather fine, and nothing seemed omitted from the 
red man's happiness. 

One night about twelve o'clock Will was aroused 
by an Indian guide, who informed him that a party 
of some two hundred Arapahoes had started away 
some two hours before, and were on a journey 
northward. The red man does not wear his heart 
upon his sleeve for government daws to peck at. 
One knows what he proposes to do after he has 
done it. The red man is conspicuously among the 
things that are not always what they seem. 

Pursuit was immediately set on foot, and the en- 
tire body of truant warriors were brought back 
without bloodshed. One of them, a young war- 
rior, came to Will's tent to beg for tobacco. The 
Indian — as all know who have made his acquaint- 
ance — has no difficulty in reconciling begging with 
his native dignity. To work may be beneath. him, to 
beg is a different matter, and there is frequently a 
delightful hauteur about his mendicancy. In this 
respect he is not unlike some of his white brothers. 
Will gave the young chief the desired tobacco, and 
then questioned him closely concerning the attempt- 
ed escape. 

"Surely," said he, "you cannot find a more beauti- 
ful spot than this. The streams are full of fish, the 
grazing is good, the game is plentiful, and the 
weather is fine. What more could you desire?" 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 253 

The Indian drew himself up. His face grew 
eager, and his eyes were full of longing as he an- 
swered, by the interpreter: 

"The land to the north and west is the land of 
plenty. There the buffalo grows larger, and his 
coat is darker. There the bu-yu (antelope) comes 
in droves, while here there are but few. There the 
whole region is covered with the short, curly grass 
our ponies like. There grow the wild plums that 
are good for my people in summer and winter. 
There are the springs of the Great Medicine Man, 
Tel-ya-ki-y. To bathe in them gives new life; to 
drink them cures every bodily ill. 

*'In the mountains beyond the river of the blue 
water there is gold and silver, the metals that the 
white man loves. There lives the eagle, whose 
feathers the Indian must have to make- his war- 
bonnet. There, too, the sun shines always. 

"It is the Ijis (heaven) of the red man. My 
heart cries for it. The hearts of my people are not 
happy when away from the Eithity Tugala." 

The Indian folded his arms across his breast, and 
his eyes looked yearningly toward the country whose 
delights he had so vividly pictured; then he turned 
and v/alked sorrowfully away. The white man's 
government shut him out from the possession of his 
earthly paradise. Will learned upon further inquiry 
that Eithity Tugala was the Indian name of the Big 
Horn Basin. 

In the summer of 1882 Will's party of explora- 
tion left the cars at Cheyenne, and struck out from 
this point with horses and pack-mules. Will's eyes 
becoming inflamed, he was obliged to bandage them, 
and turn the guidance of the party over to a man 



254 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

known as ''Reddy." For days he traveled in a 
blinded state, and though his eyes slowly bettered, 
he did not remove the bandage until the Big Horn 
Basin was reached. They had paused for the mid- 
day siesta, and Reddy inquired whether it would not 
be safe to uncover the afflicted eyes, adding that he 
thought Will "would enjoy looking around a bit." 

Off came the bandage, and I shall quote WilFs 
own words to describe the scene that met his de- 
lighted gaze : 

''To my right stretched a towering range of snow- 
capped mountains, broken here and there into mina- 
rets, obelisks, and spires. Between me and this range 
of lofty peaks a long irregular line of stately cotton- 
woods told me a stream wound its way beneath. 
The rainbow-tinted carpet under me was formed of 
innumerable brilliant-hued wild flowers; It spread 
about me. in every direction, and sloped gracefully 
to the stream. Game of every kind played on the 
turf, and bright-hued birds flitted over it. It was 
a scene no mortal can satisfactorily describe. At 
such a moment a man, no matter what his creed, 
sees the hand of the mighty Maker of the universe 
majestically displayed in the beauty of nature; he 
becomes sensibly conscious, too, of his own little- 
ness. I uttered no word for very awe; I looked 
upon one of nature's masterpieces. 

"Instantly my heart went out to my sorrowful 
Arapahoe friend of 1875. He had not exagger- 
ated; he had scarcely done the scene justice. He 
spoke of it as the Ijis, the heaven of the red man. 
I regarded it then, and still regard it, as the Mecca 
of all appreciative humanity." 

To the west of the Big Horn Basin, Hart Moun- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 255 

tain rises abruptly from the Shoshone River. It is 
covered with grassy slopes and deep ravines; per- 
pendicular rocks of every hue rise in various places 
and are fringed with evergreens. Beyond this 
mountain, in the distance, towers the hoary head 
of Table Mountain. Five miles to the southwest 
the mountains recede some distance from the river, 
and from its bank Castle Rock rises in solitary gran- 
deur. As its name indicates, it has the appearance 
of a castle, with tov/ers, turrets, bastions, and bal- 
conies. 

Grand as is the western view, the chief beauty 
lies in the south. Flere the Carter Mountain lies 
along the entire distance, and the grassy spaces on 
its side furnish pasturage for the deer, antelope, 
and mountain sheep that abound in this favored 
region. Fine timber, too, grows on its rugged 
slopes; jagged, picturesque rock-forms are seen in all 
directions, and numerous cold springs send up their 
welcome nectar. 

It is among the foothills nestling at the base of 
this mountain that Will has chosen the site of his 
future permanent residence. Here there are many 
little lakes, two of which are named Irma and Arta, 
in honor of his daughters. Here he owns a ranch of 
forty thousand acres, but the home proper will com- 
prise a tract of four hundred and eighty acres. The 
two lakes referred to are in this tract, and near 
them Will proposes to erect a palatial residence. To 
him, as he has said, it is the Mecca of earth, and 
thither he hastens the moment he is free from duty 
and obligation. In that enchanted region he for- 
gets for a little season the cares and responsibilities 
of life. 



256 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

A curious legend is told of one of the lakes that 
lie on the border of this valley. It is small — half a 
mile long and a quarter wide — but its depth is 
fathomless. It is bordered and shadowed by tall 
and stately pines, quaking-asp and birch trees, and 
its waters are pure and ice-cold the year round. 
They are medicinal, too, and as yet almost un- 
known to white men. Will heard the legend of the 
lake from the lips of an old Cheyenne warrior. 

"It was the custom of my tribe," said the Indian, 
"to assemble around this lake once every month, at 
the hour of midnight, when the moon is at its full. 
Soon after midnight a canoe filled with the specters 
of departed Cheyenne warriors shot out from the 
eastern side of the lake and crossed rapidly to the 
western border; there it suddenly disappeared. 

"Never a word or sound escaped from the specters 
in the canoe. They sat rigid and silent, and swiftly 
plied their oars. All attempts to get a word from 
them were in vain. 

"So plainly were the canoe and its occupants seen 
that the features of the warriors were readily dis- 
tinguished, and relatives and friends were recog- 
nized." 

For years, according to the legend, the regular 
monthly trip was made, and always from the eastern 
to the western border of the lake. In 1876 it sud- 
denly ceased, and the Indians were much alarmed. 
A party of them camped on the bank of the lake, 
and watchers were appointed for every night. It 
was fancied that the ghostly boatman had changed 
the date of their excursion. But in three months 
there was no sign of canoe or canoeists, and this was 
regarded as an omen of evil. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 257 

At a council of the medicine men, chiefs, and wise- 
acres of the tribe it was decided that the canoeing 
trip had been a signal from the Great Spirit — the 
canoe had proceeded from east to west, the course 
always followed by the red man. The specters had 
been sent from the Happy Hunting-Grounds to indi- 
cate that the tribe should move farther west, and the 
sudden disappearance of the monthly signal was 
augured to mean the extinction of the race. 

Once when Will was standing on the border of 
this lake a Sioux warrior came up to him. This 
man was unusually intelligent, and desired that his 
children should be educated. He sent his two sons 
to Carlisle, and himself took great pains to learn 
the white man's religious beliefs, though he still 
clung to his old savage customs and superstitions.' A 
short time before he talked with Will large com- 
panies of Indians had made pilgrimages to join one 
large conclave, for the purpose of celebrating the 
Messiah, or "Ghost Dance." Like all religious 
celebrations among savage people, it was accom- 
panied by the grossest excesses and most revolting 
immoralities. As it was not known what serious 
happening these large gatherings might portend, the 
President, at the request of many people, sent troops 
to disperse the Indians. The Indians resisted, and 
blood was spilled, among the slain being the sons 
of the Indian who stood by the side of the haunted 
lake. 

"It IS written In the Great Book of the white 
man," said the old chief to Will, "that the Great 
Spirit — the Nan-tan-in-chor — is to come to him 
again on earth. The white men in the big villages 
go to their council-lodges (churches) and talk about 



258 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the time of his coming. Some say one time, some 
say another, but they all know the time will come, 
for it is written in the Great Book. It is to the 
great and good among the white men that go to 
these council-lodges, and those that do not go say, 
'It is well; we believe as they believe; He will come.' 
It is written in the Great Book of the white man that 
all the human beings on earth are the children of the 
one Great Spirit. He provides and cares for them. 
All he asks in return is that his children obey him, 
that they be good to one another, that they judge not 
one another, and that they do not kill or steal. Have 
I spoken truly the words of the white man's Book?" 

Will bowed his head, somewhat surprised at the 
tone of the old chief's conversation. The other 
continued: 

"The red man, too, has a Great Book. You have 
never seen it; no white man has ever seen it; it is 
hidden here." He pressed his hand against his 
heart. "The teachings of the two books are the 
same. What the Great Spirit says to the white man, 
the Nan-tan-in-chor says to the red man. We, too, 
go to our council-lodges to talk of the second com- 
ing. We have our ceremony, as the white man has 
his. The white man is solemn, sorrowful; the red 
man is happy and glad. We dance and are joyful, 
and the white man sends soldiers to shoot us down. 
Does their Great Spirit tell them to do this? 

"In the big city (Washington) where I have been, 
there is another big book (the Federal Constitu- 
tion), which says the white man shall not interfere 
with the religious liberty of another. And yet they 
come out to our country and kill us when we show 
our joy to Nan-tan-in-chor. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 259 

"We rejoice over his second coming; the white 
man mourns, but he sends his soldiers to kill us in 
our rejoicing. Bah! The white man is false. I 
return to my people, and to the customs and habits 
of my forefathers. I am an Indian!" 

The old chief strode away with the dignity of a 
red Caesar, and Will, alone by the lake, reflected 
that every question has two sides to It. The one the 
red man has held In the case of the commonwealth 
versus the Indian has ever been the tragic side. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

TOUR OF GREAT BRITAIN 

It was not until the spring of 1883 that Will was 
able to put into execution his long-cherished plan — 
to present to the public an exhibition which should 
delineate in throbbing and realistic color, not only 
the wild life of America, but the actual history of 
the West, as it was lived for, fought for, died for, 
by Indians, pioneers, and soldiers. 

The wigwam village; the Indian war-dance; the 
chant to the Great Spirit as it was sung over th^ 
plains; the rise and fall of the famous tribes; the 
^'Forward, march!" of soldiers, and the building of 
frontier posts; the life of scouts and trappers; the 
hunt of the buffalo; the coming of the first settlers; 
their slow, perilous progress in the prairie schooners 
over the vast and desolate plains; the period of the 
Deadwood stage and the Pony Express ; the making 
of homes in the face of fire and Indian massacre; 
United States cavalry on the firing-line, "Death to 
the Sioux!" — these are the great historic pictures 
of the Wild West, stirring, genuine, heroic. 

It was a magnificent plan on a magnificent scale, 
and it achieved instant success. The adventurous 

260 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 261 

phases of Western life never fall to quicken the 
pulse of the East. 

An exhibition which embodied so much of the his- 
toric and picturesque, which resurrected a whole 
half-century of dead and dying events, events the 
most thrilling and dramatic in American history, 
naturally stirred up the interest of the entire country. 
The actors, too, were historic characters — no weak- 
ling imitators, but men of sand and grit, who had 
lived every inch of the life they pictured. 

The first presentation was given in May, 1883, at 
Omaha, Nebraska, the state Will had chosen for his 
home. Since then it has visited nearly every large 
city on the civilized globe, and has been viewed by 
countless thousands — men, women, and children of 
every nationality. It will long hold a place in his- 
tory. 

The "grand entrance" alone has never failed to 
chain the interest of the onlooker. The furious gal- 
loping of the Indian braves — Sioux, Arapahoe, 
Brule, and Cheyenne, all in war paint and feathers; 
the free dash of the Mexicans and cowboys, as they 
follow the Indians Into line at breakneck speed; the 
black-bearded Cossacks of the Czar's light cavalry; 
the Riffian Arabs on their desert thoroughbreds; a 
cohort from the "Queen's Own" Lancers; troopers 
from the German Emperor's bodyguard; chasseurs 
and cuirassiers from the crack cavalry regiments of 
European standing armies; detachments from the 
United States cavalry and artillery; South Ameri- 
can gauchos; Cuban veterans; Porto Ricans; Ha- 
waiians; again frontiersmen, rough riders, Texas 
rangers — all plunging with dash and spirit into the 
open, each company followed by Its chieftain and its 



262 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

flag; forming Into a solid square, tremulous with 
color; then a quicker note of music; the galloping 
hoofs of another horse, the finest of them all, and 
^'Buffalo Bill," riding with the wonderful ease and 
stately grace which only he who is "born to the 
saddle" can ever attain, enters under the flash of the 
lime-light, and sweeping off his sombrero, holds his 
head high, and with a ring of pride in his voice, ad- 
vances before his great audience and exclaims: 

"Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce 
to you a congress of the rough riders of the world." 

As a child I wept over his disregard of the larger 
sphere predicted by the soothsayer; as a woman, I 
rejoice that he was true to his own ideals, for he 
sits his horse with a natural grace much better suited 
to the saddle than to the Presidential chair. 

From the very beginning the "Wild West" was 
an immense success. Three years were spent In 
traveling over the United States; then Will con- 
ceived the idea of visiting England, and exhibiting 
to the mother race the wild side of the child's life. 
This plan entailed enormous expense, but It was car- 
ried out successfully. 

Still true to the state of his adoption. Will char- 
tered the' steamer "State of Nebraska," and on 
March 31, 1886, a living freight from the pictur- 
esque New World began its voyage to the Old. 

At Gravesend, England, the first sight to meet 
the eyes of the watchers on the steamer was a tug 
flying American colors. Three ringing cheers sa- 
luted the beautiful emblem, and the band on the tug 
responded with "The Star-Spangled Banner." Not 
to be outdone, the cowboy band on the "State of 
Nebraska" struck up "Yankee Doodle." The tug 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 263 

had been chartered by a company of Englishmen for 
the purpose of welcoming the novel American com- 
bination to British soil. 

When the landing was made, the members of the 
Wild West company entered special coaches and 
were whirled toward London. Then even the 
stolidity of the Indians was not proof against sights 
so little resembling those to which they had been ac- 
customed, and they showed their pleasure and ap- 
preciation by frequent repetition of the red man's 
characteristic grunt. 

Major John M. Burke had made the needed ar- 
rangements for housing the big show, and prepara- 
tions on a gigantic scale were rapidly pushed to 
please an Impatient London public. More effort was 
made to produce spectactular effects In the London 
amphitheater than Is possible where a merely tem- 
porary staging Is erected for one day's exhibition. 
The arena was a third of a mile In circumference^ 
and provided accommodation for forty thousand 
spectators. Here, as at Manchester, where another 
great ampitheater was erected in the fall, to serve as 
winter quarters, the artist's brush was called on to 
furnish Illusions. 

The English exhibited an eager Interest in every 
feature of the exhibition — the Indian war-dances, 
the bucking broncho, speedily subjected by the valor- 
ous cowboy, and the stagecoach attacked by Indians 
and rescued by United States troops. The Indian 
village on the plains was also an object of dramatic 
interest to the English public. The artist had coun- 
terfeited the plains successfully. 

It Is the hour of dawn. Scattered about the 
plains are various wild animals. Within their tents 



264 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the Indians are sleeping. Sunrise, and a friendly- 
Indian tribe comes to visit the wakening warriors. 
A friendly dance is executed, at the close of which 
a courier rushes in to announce the approach of a 
hostile tribe. These follow almost at the courier's 
heels, and a sham battle occurs, which affords a good 
idea of the barbarity of Indian warfare. The vic- 
tors celebrate their triumph with a wild war-dance. 

A Puritan scene follows. The landing of the Pil- 
grims is shown, and the rescue of John Smith by 
Pocahontas. This affords opportunity for delineat- 
ing many interesting Indian customs on festive cele- 
brations, such as weddings and feast-days. 

Again the prairie. A buffalo-lick is shown. The 
shaggy monsters come down to drink, and in pur- 
suit of them is ^'Buffalo Bill," mounted on his good 
horse "Charlie." He has been acting as guide for 
an emigrant party, which soon appears. Camp- 
fires are lighted, supper is eaten, and the camp sinks 
into slumber with the dwindling of the fires. Then 
comes a fine bit of stage illusion. A red glow is 
seen in the distance, faint at first, but slowly deepen- 
ing and broadening. It creeps along the whole hori- 
zon, and the camp is awakened by the alarming in- 
telligence that the prairie is on fire. The emigrants 
rush out, and heroically seek to fight back the rush- 
ing, roaring flames. Wild animals, driven by the 
flames, dash through the camp, and a stampede fol- 
lows. This scene, was extremely realistic. 

A cyclone was also simulated, and a whole village 
blown out of existence. 

The "Wild West" was received with enthusiasm, 
not only by the general public, but by royalty. Glad- 
stone made a call upon Will, in company with the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 26^ 

Marquis of Lome, and In return a lunch was ten- 
dered to the *'Grand Old Man" by the American 
visitors. In an after-dinner speech, the English 
statesman spoke in the warmest terms of America. 
He thanked Will for the good he was doing in pre- 
senting to the English public a picture of the wild life 
of the Western continent, which served to illustrate 
the difficulties encountered by a sister nation in its 
onward march of civilization. 

The Initial performance was before a royal party, 
comprising the Prince and Princess of Wales and 
suite. At the close of the' exhibition the royal 
guests, at their own request, were presented to the 
members of the company. Unprepared for this con- 
tingency. Will had forgotten to coach the perform- 
ers In the correct method of saluting royalty, and 
when the girl shots of the company were presented 
to the Princess of Wales, they stepped forward in 
true democratic fashion and cordially offered their 
hands to the lovely woman who had honored them. 

According to English usage, the Princess extends 
the hand, palm down, to favored guests, and these 
reverently touch the finger-tips- and lift the hand to 
their lips. Perhaps the spontaneity of the American 
girls' welcome was esteemed a pleasing variety to 
the established custom. At all events, her Highness, 
true to her breeding, appeared not to notice any 
breach of etiquette, but took the proffered hands 
and shook them cordially. 

The Indian' camp was also' visited, and Red Shirty 
the great chief, was, like every one else, delighted 
with the Princess. Through an interpreter the Prince 
expressed his pleasure over the performance of the 
braves, headed by their great chief, and the Princess 



266 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

bade him welcome to England. Red Shirt had the 
Indian gift of oratory, and he replied, in the un- 
Impassioned speech for which the race is noted, that 
it made his heart glad to hear such kind words from 
the Great White Chief and his beautiful squaw. 

During the round the Prince stopped in at Will's 
private quarters, and took much Interest in his 
souvenirs, being especially pleased with a magnifi- 
cent gold-hilted sword, presented to Will by officers 
of the United States army In recognition' of his serv- 
ices as scout. 

This was not the only time the exhibition was hon- 
ored by the visit of royalty. That the Prince of 
Wales was sinrere in his expression of enjoyment of 
the exhibition was evidenced by the report that he 
carried to his mother, and shortly afterward a com- 
mand came from Queen Victoria that the big show 
appear before her. It was plainly Impossible to take 
the "Wild West" to court; the next best thing was 
to construct a special box for the use of her Majesty. 
This box was placed upon a dais covered with crim- 
son velvet trimmings, and was superbly decorated. 
When the Queen arrived and was driven around to 
the royal box. Will stepped forward as she dis- 
mounted, and doffing his sombrero, made a low 
courtesy to the sovereign lady of Great Britain. 
"Welcome, your Majesty," said he, "to the Wild 
West of America !" 

One of the first acts in the performance is to carry 
the flag to the front. This Is done by a soldier, and 
is Introduced to the spectators as an emblem of a 
nation desirous of peace and friendship with all the 
world. On this occasion It was borne directly be- 
fore the Queen's box, and dipped three times in 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 267 

honor of her Majesty. The action of the Queen sur- 
prised the company and the vast throng of specta- 
tors. Rising, she saluted the American flag with a 
bow, and her suite followed her example, the gentle- 
man removing their hats. Will acknowledged the 
courtesy by waving his sombrero about his head, 
and his delighted company with one accord gave 
three ringing cheers that made the arena echo, assur- 
ing the spectators of the healthy condition of the 
lungs of the American visitors. 

The Queen's complaisance put the entire company 
on their mettle, and the performance was given mag- 
nificently. At the close Queen Victoria asked to 
have Will presented to her, and paid him so many 
compliments as almost to bring a blush to his bronz- 
ed cheek. Red Shirt was also presented, and In- 
formed her Majesty that he had come across the 
Great Water solely to see her, and his heart was 
glad. This polite speech discovered a streak in In- 
dian nature that, properly cultivated, would fit the 
red man to shine as a courtier or politician. Red 
Shirt walked away with the insouciance of a king 
dismissing an audience, and some of the squaws 
came to display papooses to the Great White Lady. 
These children of nature were not the least awed by 
the honor done them. They blinked at her Majesty 
as if the presence of qiaeens was an incident of their 
everyday existence. 

A second command from the Queen resulted in 
another exhibition before a number of her royal 
guests. The kings of Saxony, Denmark, and 
Greece, the Queen of the Belgians, and the Crown 
Prince of Austria, with others of lesser rank, illu- 
mined this occasion. 



268 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

The Deadwood coach was pecularlly honored. 
This is a coach with a history. It was built in Con- 
cord, New Hampshire, and sent to the Pacific 
Coast to run over a trail infested by road agents. A 
number of times was it held up and the passengers 
robbed, and finally both driver and passengers 
were killed and the coach abandoned on the trail, as 
no one could be found who would undertake to drive 
it. It remained derelict for a long time, but was at 
last brought into San Francisco by an old stage- 
driver and placed on the Overland trail. It gradu- 
ally worked its way eastward to the Deadwood 
route, and on this line figured in a number of en- 
counters with Indians. Again were driver and pas- 
sengers massacred, and again was the coach aban- 
doned. Will ran across It on one of his scouting ex- 
peditions, and recognizing its value as an adjunct 
to his exhibition, purchased it. Thereafter the trag- 
edies it figured in were of the mock variety. 

One of the incidents of the Wild West, as all re- 
member, is an Indian attack on the Deadwood 
coach. The royal visitors wished to put themselves 
in the place of the traveling public in the Western 
regions of America; so the four potentates of Den- 
mark, Saxony, Greece, and Austria became the pas- 
sengers, and the Prince of Wales sat on the box with 
Will. The Indians had been secretly instructed to 
"whoop 'em up" on this interesting occasion, and 
they followed energetically the letter of their In- 
structions. The coach was surrounded by a demo- 
niac band, and the blank cartridges were dis- 
charged in such close proximity to the coach v/m- 
dows that the passengers could easily imagine them- 
selves to be actual Western travelers. Rumor hath 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 269 

It that they sought refuge under the seats, and prob- 
ably no one y/ould blame them if they did; but it is 
only a rumor, and not history. 

When the wild ride was over, the Prince of 
Wales, who admires the American national game of 
poker, turned to the driver with the remark: 

^'Colonel, did you ever hold four kings like that 
before?" 

"I have held four kings more than once," was the 
prompt reply; "but, your Highness, I never held 
four kings and the royal joker before." 

The Prince laughed heartily; but Will's sympathy 
went out to him when he found that he was obliged 
to explain his joke in four different languages to the 
passengers. 

In recognition of this performance, the Prince of 
Wales sent Will a handsome souvenir. It consisted 
of his feathered crest, outlined in diamonds, and 
bearing the motto *'Ich dien!* worked in jewels un- 
derneath. An accompanying note expressed the 
pleasure of the royal visitors over the novel exhi- 
bition. 

Upon another occasion the Princess of Wales 
visited the show incognito, first advising Will of her 
intention; and at the close of the performance as- 
sured him that she had spent a delightful evening. 

The set performances of the "Wild West" were 
punctuated by social entertainments. James G. 
Blaine, Chauncey M. Depew, Murat Halsted, and 
other prominent Americans were in London at the 
time, and in their honor Will issued invitations to a 
rib-roast breakfast prepared in Indian style. Fully 
one hundred guests gathered in the "Wild West's" 
dining-tent at nine o'clock of June 10, 1887. Be- 



270 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

sides the novel decorations of the tent, it was inter- 
esting to watch the Indian cooks putting the finish- 
ing touches to their roasts. A hole had been dug 
in the ground, a large tripod erected over it, and 
upon this the ribs of beef were suspended. The fire 
was of logs, burned down to a bed of glowing coals, 
and over these the meat was turned around and 
around until it was cooked to a nicety. This method 
of open-air cooking over wood imparts to the meat: 
a flavor that can be given to it in no other way. 

The breakfast was unconventional. Part of the 
bill of fare was hominy, *'Wild West" pudding, pop- 
corn, and peanuts. The Indians squatted on the 
straw at the end of the dining-tables, and ate from 
their fingers or spread the meat with long white 
sticks. The striking contrast of table manners was 
an interesting object-lesson in the progress of civili- 
zation. 

The breakfast was a novelty to the Americans 
who partook of it, and they enjoyed it thoroughly. 

Will was made a social lion during his stay in 
London, being dined and feted upon various occa- 
sions. Only a man of the most rugged health could 
have endured the strain of his daily performances 
united with his social obligations. 

The London season was triumphantly closed with 
a meeting for the establishment of a court of arbi- 
tration to settle disputes between America and Eng- 
land. 

After leaving the English metropolis the exhibi- 
tion visited Birmingham, and thence proceeded to its 
winter headquarters in Manchester. Arta, Will's 
elder daughter, accompanied him to England, and 
made a Continental tour during the winter. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 271 

The sojourn In Manchester was another ovation. 
The prominent men of the city proposed to present 
to Will a fine rifle, and when the news of the plan 
was carried to London, a company of noblemen, 
statesmen, and journalists ran down to Manchester 
by special car. In acknowledgment of the honor 
done him. Will Issued Invitations for another of his 
unique American entertainments. Boston pork and 
beans, Maryland fried chicken, hominy, and pop- 
corn were served, and there were other distinctly 
American dishes. An Indian rib-roast was served 
on tin plates, and the distinguished guests enjoyed 
— or said they did — the novelty of eating It from 
their fingers. In true aboriginal fashion. This re- 
markable meal evoked the heartiest of toasts to the 
American flag, and a poem, a parody on "Hia- 
watha," added luster to the occasion. 

The Prince of Wales was Grand Master of the 
Free Masons of England, which order presented a 
gold watch to Will during his stay In Manchester. 
The last performance in this city was given on May 
I, 1887, and as a good by to Will the spectators 
united in a rousing chorus of "For he's a jolly good 
fellow!" The closing exhibition of the English sea- 
son occurred at Hull, and immediately afterward 
the company sailed for home on the "Persian Mon- 
arch." An Immense crowd gathered on the quay, 
and shouted a cordial "bon voyage." 

One sad event occurred on the homeward voyage, 
the death of "Old Charlie," Will's gallant and faith- 
ful horse. He was a half-blood Kentucky horse, 
and had been Will's constant and unfailing com- 
panion for many years on flie plains and In the 
"Wild West." 



272 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

He was an animal of almost human intelligence, 
extraordinary speed, endurance, and fidelity. When 
he was quite young Will rode him on a hunt for wild 
horses, which he ran down after a chase of fifteen 
miles. At another time, on a wager of five hun- 
dred dollars that he could ride him over the prairie 
one hundred miles In ten hours, he went the distance 
in nine hours and forty-five minutes. 

When the *'WIld West" was opened at Omaha, 
Charlie was the star horse, and held that position at 
all the exhibitions in this country and Europe. In 
London the horse attracted a full share of attention, 
and many scions of royalty solicited the favor of 
riding him. Grand Duke Michael of Russia rode 
Charlie several times In chase of the herd of buffa- 
loes in the *'Wild West," and became quite attached 
to him. 

On the morning of the 14th Will made his usual 
visit to Charlie, between decks. Shortly after the 
groom reported him sick. He grew rapidly worse, 
in spite of all the care he received, and at two 
o'clock on the morning of the 17th he died. His 
death cast an air of sadness over the whole ship, 
and no human being could have had more sincere 
mourners than the faithful and sagacious old horse. 
He was brought on deck wrapped in canvas and 
covered with the American flag. When the hour 
for the ocean burial arrived, the members of the 
company and others assembled on deck. Standing 
alone with uncovered head beside the dead was the 
one whose life the noble animal had shared so long. 
At length, with choking utterance, Will spoke, and 



I 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 273 

Charlie for the first time failed to hear the familiar 
voice he had always been so prompt to obey: 

*'01d fellow, your journeys are over. Here In the 
ocean you must rest. Would that I could take you 
back and lay you down beneath the billows of that 
prairie you and I have loved so well and roamed so 
freely; but it cannot be. How often at break of 
day, the glorious sun rising on the horizon has found 
us far from human habitation! Yet, obedient to my 
call, gladly you bore your burden on, little heeding 
what the day might bring, so that you and I but 
shared its sorrows and pleasures alike. You have 
never failed me. Ah, Charlie, old fellow, I have 
had many friends, but few of whom I could say that. 
Rest entombed in the deep bosom of the ocean I I'll 
never forget you. I loved you as you loved me, my 
dear old Charlie. Men tell me you have no soul; 
but if there be a heaven, and scouts can enter there, 
I'll wait at the gate for you, old friend." 

On this homeward trip Will made the acquaint- 
ance of a clergyman returning from a vacation spent 
In Europe. When they neared the American coast 
this gentleman prepared a telegram to send to his 
congregation. It read simply: "2 John I. 12." 
Chancing to see it. Will's Interest was aroused, and 
he asked the clergyman to explain the significance of 
the reference, and when this was done he said: "I 
have a religious sister at home who knows the Bible 
so well that I will wire her that message and she will 
not need to look up the meaning." 

He duplicated to me, as his return greeting, the 
minister's telegram to his congregation, but I did 
not justify his high opinion of my Biblical knowl- 
edge. I was obliged to search the Scriptures to un- 



274 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

ravel the enigma. As there may be others like me, 
but who have not the incentive I had to look up the 
reference, I quote from God's word the message I 
received: ^'Having many things to write unto you, 
I would not write with paper and ink; but I trust to 
come unto you, and speak face to face, that our joy 
may be full." 



CHAPTER XXVII 



RETURN OF THE "wiLD WEST" TO AMERICA 



When the "Wild West" returned to America 
from its first venture across seas, the sail up the 
harbor was described by the New York World in 
the following words : 

"The harbor probably has never witnessed a more picturesque 
scene than that of yesterday, when the 'Persian Monarch' steamed 
up from quarantine. Buffalo Bill stood on the captain's bridge, 
his tall and striking figure clearly outlined, and his long hair wav- 
ing in the wind; the gayly painted and blanketed Indians leaned 
over the ship's rail; the flags of all nations fluttered from the 
masts and connecting cables. The cowboy band played 'Yankee 
Doodle' with a vim and enthusiasm which faintly indicated the 
joy felt by everybody connected with the 'Wild West' over the 
sight of home." 

Will had been cordially welcomed by our Eng- 
lish cousins, and had been the recipient of many 
social favors, but no amount of foreign flattery 
could change him one hair from an "American of 
the Americans," and he experienced a thrill of de- 
light as he again stepped foot upon his native land. 
Shortly afterward he was much pleased by a letter' 
from William T. Sherman — so greatly prized that 
it was framed, and now hangs on the wall of his 
Nebraska home. Following is a copy: 

275 



276 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York. 
"Colonel Wm. F. Cody: 

"Dear Sir: In common with all your countrymen, I want ta 
let you know that I am not only gratified but proud of your man- 
agement and success. So far as I can make out, you have been 
modest, graceful, and dignified in all you have done to illustrate 
the history of civilization on this continent during the past cen- 
tury. I am especially pleased with the compliment paid you by 
the Prince of Wales, who rode with you in the Deadwood coach 
while it was attacked by Indians and rescued by cowboys. Such 
things did occur in our days, but they never will again. 

"As nearly as I can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine 
and one-half million of buffaloes on the plains between the Mis- 
souri River and the Rocky Mountains; all are now gone, killed 
for their meat, their skins, and their bones. This seems like dese- 
cration, cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice 
as many cattle. At that date there were about 165,000 Pawnees, 
Sioux, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes, who depended upon these buf- 
faloes for their yearly food. They, too, have gone, but they have 
been replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, 
who have made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can 
be counted, taxed, and governed by the laws of nature and civili- 
zation. This change has been salutary, and will go on to the 
end. You have caught one epoch of this country's history, and 
have illustrated it in the very heart of the modern world — Lon- 
don, and I want you to feel that on this side of the water we 
appreciate it. 

"This drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; 
even the drama of civilization must have an end. All I aim to 
accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that I fully 
recognize your work. The presence of the Queen, the beautiful 
Princess of Wales, the Prince, and the British public are marks of 
favor which reflect back on America sparks of light which illumi- 
nate many a house and cabin in the land where once you guided 
me honestly and faithfully, in 1865-66, from Fort Riley to Kearny, 
in Kansas and Nebraska. 

"Sincerely your friend, 

"W. T. Sherman.^' 

Having demonstrated to his satisfaction that the 
largest measure of success lay in a stationary exhi- 
bition of his show, where the population was large 
enough to warrant it, Will purchased a tract of land 
on Staten Island, and here he landed on his return 
from England. Teamsters for miles around had 
been engaged to transport the outfit across the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 277 

Island to Erastina, the site chosen for the exhibition. 
And you may be certain that Cut Meat, American 
Bear, Flat Iron, and the other Indians furnished 
unlimited joy to the ubiquitous small boy, who was 
present by the hundreds to watch the unloading 
scenes. 

The summer season at this point was a great suc- 
cess. One incident connected with It may be worth 
relating. 

Teachers everywhere have recognized the value 
of the "Wild West" exhibition as an educator, and 
In a number of instances public schools have been 
dismissed to afford the children an opportunity of 
attending the entertainment. It has not, however, 
been generally recognized as a spur to religious pro- 
gress, yet, while at Staten Island, Will was invited 
to exhibit a band of his Indians at a missionary 
meeting given under the auspices of a large mission 
Sunday-school. He appeared with his warriors, who 
were expected to give one of their religious dances 
as an object-lesson In devotional ceremonials. 

The meeting was largely attended, and every one, 
children especially, waited for the exercises In ex- 
cited curiosity and Interest. Will sat on the plat- 
form with the superintendent, pastor, and others In 
authority, and close by sat the band of stolid-faced 
Indians. 

The service began with a hymn and the reading 
of the Scriptures; then, to Will's horror, the super- 
intendent requested him to lead the meeting in 
prayer. Perhaps the good man fancied that Will 
for a score of years had fought Indians with a rifle 
in one hand and a prayer-book In the other, and 
was as prepared to pray as to shoot. At least he 



278 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

surely did not make his request with the thought of 
embarrassing Will, though that was the natural re- 
sult. However, Will held holy things in deep- 
est reverence; he had the spirit of Gospel if not the 
letter; so, rising, he quietly and simply, with bowed 
head, repeated the Lord's Prayer. 

A winter exhibition under roof was given in New 
York, after which the show made a tour of the 
principal cities of the United States. Thus passed 
several years, and then arrangements were made for 
a grand Continental trip. A plan had been matur- 
ing in Will's mind ever since the British season, and 
in the spring of 1889, it was carried into effect. 

The steamer "Persian Monarch" was again char- 
tered, and this time its prow was turned toward the 
shores of France. Paris was the destination, and 
seven months were passed in the gay capital. The 
Parisians received the show with as much enthu- 
siasm as did the Londoners, and in Paris as well as 
in the English metropolis everything American be- 
came a fad during the stay of the "Wild West." 
Even American books were read — a crucial test of 
faddism; and American curios were displayed in. all 
the shops. Relics from American plain and moun- 
tain — buffalo-robes, bearskins, buckskin suits em- 
broidered with porcupine quills, Indian blankets, 
woven mats, bows and arrows, bead-mats, Mexican 
bridles and saddles — sold like the proverbial hot 
cakes. 

In Paris, also. Will became a social favorite, and 
had he accepted a tenth of the invitations to recep- 
tions, dinners, and balls showered upon him, he 
would have been obliged to close his show. 

While In this city Will accepted an invitation 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 279 

from Rose Bonheur to visit her at her superb cha- 
teau, and In return for the honor he extended to her 
the freedom of the stables, which contained magni- 
ficent horses used for transportation purposes, and 
which never appeared In the pubhc performance — 
Percherons, of the breed depicted by the famous 
artist in her well-known painting of "The Horse 
Fair." Day upon day she visited the camp and 
made studies, and as a token of her appreciation of 
the courtesy, painted a picture of Will mounted on 
his favorite horse, both horse and rider bedecked 
with frontier paraphernalia. This souvenir, which 
holds the place of honor in his collection, he Im- 
mediately shipped home. 

The wife of a London embassy attache relates the 
following story: 

"During the time that Colonel Cody was making 
his triumphant tour of Europe, I was one night 
seated at a banquet next to the Belgian Consul. 
Early In the course of the conversation he asked: 

" ^Madame, you haf undoubted been to see ze 
gr-rand Bouf-falo Beel?' 

"Puzzled by the apparently unfamiliar name, I 
asked : 

" Tardon me, but whom did you say?' 

" *Vy, Bouf-falo Beel, ze famous Bouf-falo Beel, 
zat gr-reat countryman of yours. You must know 
him; 

"After a moment's thought, I recognized the 
well-known showman's name in its disguise. I com- 
prehended that the good Belgian thought his to be 
one of America's most eminent names, to be men- 
tioned in the same breath with Washington and 
Lincoln." 



28o LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

After leaving Paris, a short tour of Southern 
France was made, and at Marseilles a vessel was 
chartered to transport the company to Spain. The 
Spanish grandees eschewed their favorite amuse- 
ment — the bull-fight — long enough to give a hearty 
welcome to the "Wild West." Next followed a 
tour of Italy; and the visit to Rome was the most 
interesting of the experiences in this country. 

The Americans reached the Eternal City at the 
time of Pope Leo's anniversary celebration, and, on 
the Pope's invitation Will visited the Vatican. Its 
historic walls have rarely, if ever, looked upon a 
more curious sight than was presented when Will 
walked in, followed by the cowboys in their buck- 
skins and sombreros and the Indians in war paint 
and feathers. Around them crowded a motley 
throng of Italians, clad in the brilliant colors so 
loved by these children of the South, and nearly 
every nationality was represented in the assemblage. 

Some of the cowboys and Indians had been reared 
in the Catholic faith, and when the Pope appeared 
they kaelt for his blessing. He seemed touched by 
this action on the part of those whom he might be 
disposed to regard as savages, and, bending for- 
ward, extended his hands and pronounced a benedic- 
tion; then he. passed on, and it was with the greatest 
difficulty that the Indians were restrained from ex- 
pressing their emotions in a wild whoop. This, no 
doubt, would have relieved them, but it would, in 
all probability, have stampeded the crowd. 

When the Pope reached Will he looked admir- 
ingly upon the frontiersman. The world-known 
scout bent his head before the aged "Medicine 
Man," as the Indians call his reverence, the Papal 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 281 

blessing was again bestowed, and the procession 
passed on. The Thanksgiving Mass, with its fine 
choral accompaniment, was given, and the vast con- 
course of people poured out of the building. 
This visit attracted much attention. 

"I'll take my stalwart Indian braves 

Down to the Coliseum, 
And the old Romans from their graves 

Will all arise to see 'em. 
Prajtors and censors will return 

And hasten through the Forum; 
The ghostly Senate will adjourn, 

Because it lacks a quorum. 

"And up the ancient Appian Way 
Will flock the ghostly legions, 
- From Gaul unto Calabria, 
And from remoter regions; 
From British bay and wild lagoon, 

And Libyan desert sandy, 
They'll all come marching to the tune 
Of 'Yankee Doodle Dandy.' 

"Prepare triumphal cars for me, 

And purple thrones to sit on, 
For I've done more than Julius C. — 

He could not down the Briton! 
Caesar and Cicero shall bow, 

And ancient warriors famous. 
Before the myrtle-wreathed brow 

Of Buffalo Williamus. 

"We march, unwhipped, through historjr — 

No bulwark can detain us — 
And link the age of Grover C. 

And Scipio Africanus. 
I'll take my stalwart Indian braves 

Down to the Coliseum, 
And the old Romans from their graves 

Will all arise to see 'em." 

It may be mentioned in passing that Will had 
visited the Coliseum with an eye to securing it as an 
amphitheater for the "Wild West" exhibition, but 



282 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

the historic ruin was too dilapidated to be a safe 
arena for such a purpose, and the idea was aban- 
doned. 

The sojourn in Rome was enlivened by an inci- 
dent that created much interest among the natives. 
The Italians were somewhat skeptical as to the abil- 
ities of the cowboys to tame wild horses, believing 
the bronchos in the show were specially trained for 
their work, and that the horse-breaking was a mock 
exhibition. 

The Prince of Sermonetta declared that he had 
some wild horses in his stud which no cowboys in 
the world could ride. The challenge was promptly 
taken up by the daring riders of the plains, and the 
Prince sent for his wild steeds. That they might 
not run amuck and injure the spectators, specially 
prepared booths of great strength were erected. 

The greatest interest and enthusiasm were mani- 
fested by the populace, and the death of two or 
three members of the company was as confidently 
looked for as was the demise of sundry gladiators in 
the "brave days of old." 

But the cowboys laughed at so great a fuss over 
so small a matter, and when the horses were driven 
into the arena, and the spectators held their breath, 
the cowboys, lassos in hand, awaited the work with 
the utmost nonchalance. 

The wild equines sprang into the air, darted 
hither and thither, and fought hard against their 
certain fate, but in less time than would be required 
to give the details, the cowboys had flung their las- 
sos, caught the horses, and saddled and mounted 
them. The spirited beasts still resisted, and sought 
in every way to throw their riders, but the experi- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 283 

enced plainsmen had them under control in a very 
short time ; and as they rode them around the arena, 
the spectators rose and howled with delight. The 
display of horsemanship effectually silenced the skep- 
tics; it captured the Roman heart, and the remain- 
der of the stay in the city was attended by unusual 
enthusiasm. 

Beautiful Florence, practical Bologna, and stately 
Milan, with its many-spired cathedral, were next on 
the list for the triumphal march. For the Vene- 
tian public the exhibition had to be given at Verona, 
in the historic amphitheater built by Diocletian, 
A. D. 290. This is the largest building in the world, 
and within the walls of this representative of Old 
World civilization the difficulties over which New 
World civilization had triumphed were portrayed. 
Here met the old and new; hoary antiquity and 
bounding youth kissed each other under the sunny 
Italian skies. 

The "Wild West" now moved northward, 
through the Tyrol, to Munich, and from here the 
Americans digressed for an excursion on the "beauti- 
ful blue Danube.'' Then followed a successful tour 
of Germany. 

During this Continental circuit Will's elder daugh- 
ter, Arta, who had accompanied him on his British 
expedition, was married. It was impossible for the 
father to be present, but by cablegram he sent his 
congratulations and check. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

A TRIBUTE TO GENERAL MILES 

In view of the success achieved by my brother, it 
is remarkable that he excited so little envy. Now 
for the first time In his life he felt the breath of 
slander on his cheek, and It flushed hotly. From 
an Idle remark that the Indians In the "Wild West" 
exhibition were not properly treated, the Idle gossip 
grew to the proportion of malicious and insistent 
slander. The Indians being government wards, 
such a charge might easily become a serious matter; 
for, like the man who beat his wife, the govern- 
ment believes it has the right to maltreat the red 
man to the top of its bent, but that no one else shall 
be allowed to do so. 

A winter campaign of the "Wild West'' had been 
contemplated, but the project v/as abandoned and 
winter quarters decided on. In the quaint little vil- 
lage of Benfield was an ancient nunnery and a castle, 
with good stables. Here Will left the company in 
charge of his partner, Mr. Nate Salisbury, and, ac- 
companied by the Indians for whose welfare he was 
responsible, set sail for America, to silence his 
calumlnators. 

The testimony of the red men themselves was all 
jthat was required to refute the notorious untruths. 

284 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 285 

Few had placed any belief In the reports, and friend- 
ly commenters were also active. 

As the sequel proved, Will came home very op- 
portunely. The Sioux in Dakota were again on the 
war-path, and his help was needed to subdue the 
uprising. He disbanded the warriors he had 
brought back from Europe, and each returned to 
his own tribe and people, to narrate around the 
camp-fire the wonders of the life abroad, while Will 
reported at headquarters to offer his services for the 
war. Two years previously he had been honored by 
the commission of Brigadier-General of the Ne- 
braska National Guard, which rank and title were 
given to him by Governor Thayer. 

The officer In command of the Indian campaign 
was General Nelson A. Miles, who has rendered so 
many important services to his country, and who, as 
Commander-in-Chief of our army, played so large a 
part in the recent war with Spain. At the time of 
the Indian uprising he held the rank of Brigadier- 
General. 

This brilliant and able officer was much pleased 
when he learned that he would have Will's assist- 
ance in conducting the campaign, for he knew the 
value of his good judgment, cool head, and execu- 
tive ability, and of his large experience in dealing 
with Indians. 

The "Wild West," which had served as an edu- 
cator to the people of Europe in presenting the 
frontier life of America, had quietly worked as Im- 
portant educational influences In the minds of the 
Indians connected with the exhibition. They had 
seen for themselves the wonders of the world's civ- 
ilization; they realized how futile were the efforts 



2 86 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

of the children of the plains to stem the resistless 
tide of progress flowing westward. Potentates had 
delighted to do honor to Pa-has-ka, the Long-haired 
Chief, and in the eyes of the simple savage he was 
as powerful as any of the great ones of earth. To 
him his word was law; it seemed worse than folly 
for their brethren to attempt to cope with so 
mighty a chief, therefore their influence was all for 
peace ; and the fact that so many tribes did not join 
in the uprising may be attributed, in part, to their 
good counsel and advice. 

General Miles was both able and energetic, and 
managed the campaign in masterly fashion. There 
were one or two hard-fought battles, in one of 
which the great Sioux warrior. Sitting Bull, the 
ablest that nation ever produced, was slain. This 
Indian had traveled with Will for a time, but could 
not be weaned from his loyalty to his own tribe and 
a desire to avenge upon the white man the wrongs 
inflicted on his people. 

What promised at the outset to be a long and 
cruel frontier war was speedily quelled. The death 
of Sitting Bull had something to do with the termi- 
nation of hostilities. Arrangements for peace were 
soon perfected, and Will attributed the government's 
success to the energy of its officer in command, for 
whom he had a most enthusiastic admiration. He 
paid this tribute to him recently : 

*'I have been in many campaigns with General 
Miles, and a better general and more gifted war- 
rior I have never seen. I served in the Civil War, 
and in any number of Indian wars; I have been un- 
der at least a dozen generals, with whom I have 
been thrown in close contact because of the nature 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 287 

of the services which I was called upon to render. 
General Miles is the superior of them all. 

"I have known Phil Sheridan, Tecumseh Sher- 
man, Hancock, and all of our noted Indian fighters. 
For cool judgment and thorough knowledge of all 
that pertains to military affairs, none of them, in my 
opinion, can be said to excel General Nelson A. 
Miles. 

"Ah, what a man he Is ! I know. We have been 
shoulder to shoulder in many a hard march. We 
have been together when men find out what their 
comrades really are. He Is a man, every Inch of 
him, and the best general I ever served under." 

After Miles was put in command of the forces, a 
dinner was given in his honor by John Chamberlln. 
Will was a guest and one of the speakers, and took 
the opportunity to eulogize his old friend. He dwelt 
at length on the respect in which the red men held 
the general, and in closing said: 

"No foreign invader will ever set foot on these 
shores as long as General Miles Is at the head of the 
army. If they should — just call on me !" 

The speaker sat down amid laughter and ap- 
plause. 

While Will was away at the seat of war, his 
beautiful home in North Platte, "Welcome Wig- 
wam," burned to the ground. The little city Is not 
equipped with much of a fire department, but a 
volunteer brigade held the flames In check long 
enough to save almost the entire contents of the 
house, among which were many valuable and costly 
souvenirs that could never be replaced. 

Will received a telegram announcing that his 
house was ablaze, and his reply was characteristic: 



288 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

"Save Rosa Bonheur's picture, and the house may 
go to blazes." 

When the frontier war was ended and the troops 
disbanded, Will made application for another com- 
pany of Indians to take back to Europe with him. 
Permission was obtained from the government, and 
the contingent from the friendly tribes was headed 
by chiefs named Long Wolf, No Neck, Yankton 
Charlie, and Black Heart. In addition to these, a 
company was recruited from among the Indians held 
as hostages by General Miles at Fort Sheridan, and 
the leaders of these hostile braves were such noted 
chiefs as Short Bull, Kicking Bear, Lone Bull, Scat- 
ter, and Revenge. To these the trip to Alsace-Lor- 
raine was a revelation, a fairy-tale more wonderful 
than anything In their legendary lore. The ocean 
voyage, with its seasickness, put them in an ugly 
mood, but the sight of the encampment and the cow- 
boys dissipated their sullenness, and they shortly felt 
at home. The hospitality extended to all the mem- 
bers of the company by the inhabitants of the vil- 
lage in which they wintered was most cordial, and 
left them the pleasantest of memories. 

An extended tour of Europe was fittingly closed 
by a brief visit to England. The Britons gave the 
**Wild West" as hearty a welcome as if It were na- 
tive to their heath. A number of the larger cities 
were visited, London being reserved for the last. 

Royalty again honored the "Wild West" by Its 
attendance, the Queen requesting a special perform- 
ance on the grounds of Windsor Castle. The re- 
quests of the Queen are equivalent to commands, 
and the entertainment was duly given. As a token 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 289 

of her appreciation the Queen bestowed upon Will 
a costly and beautiful souvenir. 

Not the least-esteemed remembrance of this Lon- 
don visit was an illuminated address presented by 
the English Workingman's Convention. In it the 
American plainsman was congratulated upon the 
honors he had won, the success he had achieved, 
and the educational worth of his great exhibition. 
A banquet followed, at which Will presented an au- 
tograph photograph to each member of the asso- 
ciation. 

Notwithstanding tender thoughts of home, Eng- 
lish soil was left regretfully. To the "Wild West" 
the complacent Briton had extended a cordial wel- 
come, and manifested an enthusiasm that contrasted 
strangely with his usual disdain for things Ameri- 
can. 

A singular coincidence of the homeward voyage 
was the death of Billy, another favorite horse of 
Will's. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

THE "wild west" AT THE WORLD's FAIR 

European army officers of all nationalities re- 
garded my brother with admiring Interest. To Ger- 
man, French, Italian, or British eyes he was a com- 
manding personality, and also the representative of 
a peculiar and Interesting phase of New World 
life. Recalling their interest in his. scenes from his 
native land, so unlike anything to be found in Eu- 
rope to-day. Will invited a number of these officers 
to accompany him on an extended hunting-trip 
through Western America. 

All that could possibly do so accepted the invita- 
tion. A date was set for them to reach Chicago, 
and from there arrangements were made for a spe- 
cial train to convey them to Nebraska. 

When the party gathered, several prominent 
Americans were of the number. By General Miles's 
order a military escort attended them from Chicago, ^ 
and the native soldiery remained with them until 
North Platte was reached. 

Then the party proceeded to ^'Scout's Rest 
Ranch," where they were hospitably entertained for 
a couple of days before starting out on their long 
trail. 

290 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 291 

At Denver ammunition and supplies were taken 
on board the train. A French chef was also en- 
gaged, as Will feared his distinguished guests might 
not enjoy camp-fare. But a hen in water is no more 
out of place than a French cook on a "roughing-it" 
trip. Frontier cooks, who understand primitive 
methods, make no attempts at a fashionable cuisine, 
and the appetites developed by open-air life are 
equal to the rudest, most substantial fare. 

Colorado Springs, the Garden of the Gods, and 
other places In Colorado were visited. The foreign 
visitors had heard stories of this wonderland of 
America, but, like all of nature's masterpieces, the 
rugged beauties of this magnificent region defy an 
adequate description. Only one who has seen a 
sunrise on the Alps can appreciate It. The storied 
Rhine Is naught but a story to him who has never 
looked upon It. Niagara Is only a waterfall until 
seen from various viewpoints, and its tremendous 
force and transcendent beauty are strikingly re- 
vealed. The same Is true of the glorious wlldness 
of our Western scenery; It must be seen to be ap- 
preciated. 

The most beautiful thing about the Garden of the 
Gods Is the entrance known as the Gateway. Color 
here runs riot. The mass of rock in the foreground 
is white, and stands out In sharp contrast to the rich 
red of the sandstone of the portals, which rise on 
either side to a height of three hundred feet. 
Through these giant portals, which In the sunlight 
glow with ruddy fire. Is seen mass upon mass of 
gorgeous color, rendered more striking by the daz- 
zling whiteness of Pike's Peak, which soars upward 
In the distance, a hoary sentinel of the skies. The 



292 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

whole picture is limned against the brilliant blue of 
the Colorado sky, and stands out sharp and clear, 
one vivid block of color distinctly defined against 
the other. 

The name "Garden of the Gods" was doubtless 
applied because of the peculiar shape of the spires, 
needles, and basilicas of rock that rise in every di- 
rection. These have been corroded by storms and 
worn smooth by time, until they present the appear- 
ance of half-baked images of clay molded by human 
hands, instead of sandstone rocks fashioned by wind 
and weather. Each grotesque and fantastic shape 
has received a name. One is here introduced to the 
^'Washerwoman," the ''Lady of the Garden," the 
"Siamese Twins," and the "Ute God," and besides 
these may be seen the "Wreck," the "Baggage 
Room," the "Eagle," and the "Mushroom." The 
predominating tone is everywhere red, but black, 
brown, drab, white, yellow, buff, and pink rocks add 
their quota to make up a harmonious and striking 
color scheme, to which the gray and green of cling- 
ing mosses add a final touch of picturesqueness. 

At Flagstaff, Arizona, the train was discarded for 
the saddle and the buckboard. And now Will felt 
himself quite in his element; it was a never-failing 
pleasure to him to guide a large party of guests over 
plain and mountain. From long experience he knew 
how to make ample provision for their comfort. 
There were a number of wagons filled with sup- 
plies, three buckboards, three ambulances, and a 
drove of ponies. Those who wished to ride horse- 
back could do so; if they grew tired of a bucking 
broncho, opportunity for rest awaited them in am- 
bulance or buckboard. The French chef found his 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 293 

occupation gone when it was a question of cooking 
over a camp-fire; so he spent his time picking him- 
self up when dislodged by his broncho. The dainti- 
ness of his menu was not a correct gauge for the 
daintiness of his language on these numerous occa- 
sions. 

Through the Grand Canon of the Colorado Will 
led the party, and the dwellers of the Old World 
beheld some of the rugged magnmcence of the New. 
Across rushing rivers, through quiet valleys, and 
over lofty mountains they proceeded, pausing on the 
borders of peaceful lakes, or looking over dizzy 
precipices into yawning chasms. 

There v/as no lack of game to furnish variety to 
their table; mountain sheep, mountain lions, wild- 
cats, deer, elk, antelope, and even coyotes and por- 
cupines, were shot, while the nvers furnished an 
abundance of fish. 

It seemed likely at one time that there might 
be a hunt of bigger game than any here mentioned, 
for In crossing the country of the Navajos the party 
was watched and followed by mounted Indians. An 
attack was feared, and had the red men opened fire, 
there would have been a very animated defense; but 
the suspicious Indians were merely on the alert to 
see that no trespass was committed, and when the 
orderly company passed out of their territory the 
warriors disappeared. 

The visitors were much impressed with the vast- 
ness and the undeveloped resources of our country. 
They were also Impressed with the climate, as the 
thermometer went down to forty degrees below zero 
while they were on Buckskin Mountain. Nature 
seemed to wish to aid Will In the effort to exhibit 



294 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

novelties to his foreign guests, for she tried her 
hand at some spectacular effects, and succeeded be- 
yond mortal expectation. She treated them to a few 
blizzards; and shut In by the mass of whirling, 
blinding snowflakes, it is possible their thoughts re- 
verted with a homesick longing to the sunny slopes 
of France, the placid vales of Germany, or the foggy 
mildness of Great Britain. 

On the summit of San Francisco Mountain, the 
horse of Major St. John Mlldmay lost Its footing, 
and began to slip on the ice toward a precipice which 
looked down a couple of thousand feet. Will saw 
the danger, brought out his ever-ready lasso, and 
dexterously caught the animal in time to save It and 
its rider — a feat considered remarkable by the on- 
lookers. 

Accidents happened occasionally, many adven- 
tures were met with, Indian alarms were given, and 
narrow were some of the escapes. On the v/hole, it 
was a remarkable trail, and was written about under 
the heading, "A Thousand Miles in the Saddle with 
Buffalo BUI." 

At Salt Lake City the party broke up, each going 
his separate way. All expressed great pleasure in 
the trip, and united in the opinion that Buffalo 
Bill's reputation as guide and scout was a well- 
deserved one. 

Will's knowledge of Indian nature stands him in 
good stead when he desires to select the quota of 
Indians for the summer season of the "Wild West." 
He sends word ahead to the tribe or reservation 
which he intends to visit. The red men have all 
heard of the wonders of the great show; they are 
more than ready to share In the delights of travel, 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 295 

and they gather at the appointed place In great num- 
bers. 

Will stands on a temporary platform In the cen- 
ter of the group. He looks around upon the swarthy 
faces, glowing with all the eagerness which the stolid 
Indian nature will permit them to display. It Is not 
always the tallest nor the most comely men who are 
selected. The unerring judgment of the scout, 
trained In Indian warfare, tells him who may be re- 
lied upon and who are untrustworthy. A face ar- 
rests his attention — with a motion of his hand he 
indicates the brave whom he has selected; another 
wave of the hand and the fate of a second warrior 
is settled. Hardly a word Is spoken, and it is only 
a matter of a few moments' time before he Is ready 
to step down from his exalted position and walk off 
with his full contingent of warriors following hap- 
pily in his wake. 

The "Wild West" had already engaged space 
just outside the World's Fair grounds for an ex- 
hibit in 1893, and Will was desirous of introducing 
some new and striking feature. He had succeeded 
in presenting to the people of Europe some new 
ideas, and, in return, the European trip had fur- 
nished to him the much-desired novelty. He had 
performed the work of an educator In showing to 
Old World residents the conditions of a new civili- 
zatlon, and the idea was now conceived of showing 
to the world gathered at the arena in Chicago a 
representation of the cosmopolitan military force. 
He called It "A Congress of the Rough Riders of 
the World." It is a combination at once ethnologi- 
cal and military. 

To the Indians and cowboys were added Mexi- 



296 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

cans, Cossacks, and South Americans, with regular 
trained cavalry from Germany, France, England, 
and the United States. This aggregation showed 
for the first time in 1893, and was an instantaneous 
success. Of it Opie Read gives a fine description: 

"Morse made the two worlds touch the tips of their fingers 
together. Cody has made the warriors of all nations join hands. 

"In one act we see the Indian, with his origin shrouded in 
history's mysterious fog; the cowboy — nerve-strung product of the 
New World ; the American soldier, the dark Mexican, the glitter- 
ing soldier of Germany, the dashing cavalryman of France, the 
impulsive Irish dragoon, and that strange, swift spirit from the 
plains of Russia, the Cossack. 

"Marvelous theatric display, a drama with scarcely a word — 
Europe, Asia, Africa, America in panoramic whirl, and yet as 
individualized as if they had never left their own country." 

In 1893 the horizon of my brother's interests en- 
larged. In July of that year I was married to Mr. 
Hugh A. Wetmore, editor of the Duluth Press. 
My steps now turned to the North, and the enter- 
prising young city on the shore of Lake Superior 
became my home. During the long years of my 
widowhood my brother always bore toward me the 
attitude of guardian and protector; I could rely upon 
his support in any venture I deemed a promising 
one, and his considerate thoughtfulness did not fail 
when I remarried. He wished to see me well estab- 
lished in my new home; he desired to insure my 
happiness and prosperity, and with this end in view 
he purchased the Duluth Press plant, erected a fine 
brick building to serve as headquarters for the news- 
paper venture, and we became business partners in 
the untried field of press work. 

My brother had not yet seen the Zenith City. So 
In January of 1894 he arranged to make a short 
visit to Duluth. We issued invitations for a general 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 297 

reception, and the response was of the genuine 
Western kind — eighteen hundred guests assembling 
in the new Duluth Press Building to bid welcome 
and do honor to the world-famed Buffalo Bill. 

His name is a household word, and there is a 
growing demand for anecdotes concerning him. As 
he does not like to talk about himself, chroniclers 
have been compelled to interview his associates, or 
are left to their own resources. Like many of the 
stories told about Abraham Lincoln, some of the cur- 
rent yarns about Buffalo Bill are of doubtful author- 
ity. Nevertheless, a collection of those that are 
authentic would fill a volume. Almost every plains- 
man or soldier who met my brother during the In- 
dian campaigns can tell some interesting tale about 
him that has never been printed. During the youth- 
ful season of redundant hope and happiness many 
of his ebullitions of wit were lost, but he was always 
beloved for his good humor, which no amount of 
carnage could suppress. He was not averse to 
church-going, though he was liable even in church 
to be carried away by the rollicking spirit that was 
in him. Instance his visit to the little temple which 
he had helped to build at North Platte. 

His wife and sister were in the congregation, and 
this ought not only to have kept him awake, but it 
should have insured perfect decorum on his part. 
The opening hymn commenced with the words, 
"Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing," etc. The 
organist, who played ''by ear," started the tune in 
too high a key to be followed by the choir and con- 
gregation, and had to try again. A second attempt 
ended, like the first, in failure. "Oh, for a thou- 
sand tougues to sing, my blest — " came the opening 



298 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

words for the third time, followed by a squeak from 
the organ, and a relapse into painful silence. Will 
could contain himself no longer, and blurted out: 
^'Start It at five hundred, and mebbe some of the 
rest of us can get In." 

Another church episode occurred during the visit 
of the "Wild West" to the Atlantic Exposition. A 
locally celebrated colored preacher had announced 
that he would deliver a sermon on the subject of 
Abraham Lincoln. A party of white people, in- 
cluding my brother, was made up, and repaired to 
the church to listen to the eloquent address. Not 
wishing to make themselves conspicuous, the white 
visitors took a pew In the extreme rear, but one of 
the ushers, wishing to honor them. Insisted on con- 
ducting them to a front seat. When the contribu- 
tion platter came around, our hero scooped a lot of 
silver dollars from his pocket and deposited them 
upon the plate with such force that the receptacle 
was tilted and Its contents poured In a jingling 
shower upon the floor. The preacher left his pulpit 
to assist in gathering up the scattered treasure, re- 
questing the congregation to sing a hymn of thanks- 
giving while the task was being performed. At the 
conclusion of the hymn the sable divine returned to 
the pulpit and supplemented his sermon with the fol- 
lowing remarks : 

"Brudderen an' sisters: I obsahve dat Co'nel and Gen'I Buflo 
Bill am present. [A roar of "Amens" and "Bless God's" arose 
from the audience.] You will wifhold yuh Amens till I git froo. 
You all owes yuh freedom to. Abraham's bosom, but he couldn't 
hab went an' gone an' done it widout Buflo Bill, who he'ped him 
wid de sinnoose ob wah! Abraham Lincum was de brack man's 
fren' — Buflo Bill am de fren' ob us all. ["Amen!" screamed a 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 299 

sister.] Yes, sistah, he am yo' fren', moreova, an' de fren' ob 
every daughtah ob Jakup likewise. De chu'ch debt am a cross 
to us, an' to dat cross he bends his back as was prefigu'd in de 
scriptu's ob ol'. De sun may move, aw de sun mought stan' still, 
but Buflo Bill nebba Stan's still — he's ma'ching froo Geo'gia wid 
his Christian cowboys to sto'm de Lookout Mountain ob Zion. 
Deacon Green Henry Turner will lead us in prayah fo* Buflo 
Bill." 

The following is one of Will's own stories: Dur- 
ing the first years of his career as an actor Will 
had in one of his theatrical companies a Westerner 
named Broncho Bill. There were Indians in the 
troupe, and a certain missionary had joined the 
aggregation to look after the morals of the Indians. 
Thinking that Broncho Bill would bear a little look- 
ing after also, the good man secured a seat by his 
side at the dinner-table, and remarked pleasantly: 

"This is Mr. Broncho Bill, is it not?" 

"Yaas." 

"Where were you born?" 

"Near Kit Bullard's mill, on Big Pigeon." 

"Religious parents, I suppose?" 

"Yaas." 

"What is. your denomination?" 

"My what?" 

"Your denomination?" 

"O — ah — yaas. Smith & Wesson." 

While on his European tour Will was entertain- 
ed by a great many potentates. At a certain dinner 
given in his honor by a wealthy English lord. Will 
met for the first time socially a number of bluster- 
ing British officers, fresh from India. One of them 
addressed himself to the scout as follows: "I un- 
derstand you are a' colonel. You Americans are 
blawsted fond of military titles, don't cherneow. By 



300 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

gad, sir, we'll have to come over and give you fel- 
lows a good licking!" 

"What, again?" said the scout, so meekly that 
for an instant his assailant did not know how hard 
he was hit, but he realized it when the retort was 
wildly applauded by the company. 

Before closing these pages I will give an account 
of an episode which occurred during the Black Hills 
gold excitement, and which illustrates the faculty 
my hero possesses of adapting himself to all emer- 
gencies. Mr. Mahan, of West Superior, Wisconsin, 
and a party of adventurous gold-seekers were being 
chased by a band of Indians, which they had suc- 
ceeded in temporarily eluding. They met Buffalo 
Bill at the head of a squad of soldiers who were 
looking for redskins. The situation was explained 
to the scout, whereupon he said: 

"I am looking for that identical crowd. Now, 
you draw up in line, and I will look you over and 
pick out the men that I want to go back with me.'' 

V/ithout any questioning he was able to select the 
men who really wanted to return and fight the In- 
dians. He left but two behind, but they were the ones 
who would have been of no assistance had they been 
allowed to go to the front. Will rode some distance 
in advance of his party, and when the Indians sight- 
ed him, they thought he was alone, and made a 
dash for him. Will whirled about and made his 
horse go- as if fleeing for his life. His men had 
been carefully ambushed. The Indians kept up a 
constant firing, and when he reached a certain point 
Will pretended to be hit, and fell from his horse. 
On came the Indians, howling like a choir of 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 301 

maniacs. The next moment they were In a trap, 
and Will and his men opened fire on them, literally 
annihilating the entire squad. It was the Indian 
style of warfare, and the ten "good Indians" left 
upon the field, had they been able to complain, 
would have had no right to- do so. 

Will continued the march, and as the day was 
well advanced, began looking for a good place to 
camp. Arriving at the top of a ridge overlooking 
a little river, Will saw a spot where he had camped 
on a previous expedition; but, to his great disap- 
pointment, the place was In possession of a large 
village of hostlles, who were putting up their tepees, 
building camp fires, and making themselves comfort- 
able for the coming night. 

Quick as a flash Will decided what to do. "There 
are too many of them for us to whip in the tired con- 
dition of ourselves and horses," said our hero. Then 
he posted his men along the top of the ridge, with 
instructions to show themselves at a signal from 
him, and descended at once, solitary and alone, to 
the encampment of the hostlles. Gliding rapidly up 
to the chief, Will addressed him In his own dialect 
as follows: 

"I want you to leave here right away, quick! I 
don't want to kill your women and children. A big 
lot of soldiers are following me, and they will de- 
stroy your whole village if you are here when they 
come." 

As he waved his hand In the direction of the hill- 
top, brass buttons and polished gun-barrels began 
to glitter In the rays of the setting sun, and the 
chief ordered his braves to fold their tents and 
move on. 



CHAPTER XXX 

CODY DAY AT THE OMAHA EXPOSITION 

Since 1893 the "Wild West'* exhibitions have 
"been restricted to the various cities of our own land. 
Life in "Buffalo Bill's Tented City," as it is called, 
is like life in a small village. There are some six 
hundred persons in the various departments. Many 
of the men have their families with them; the In- 
dians have their squaws and papooses, and the vari- 
ety of nationalities, dialects, and costumes makes the 
miniature city an interesting and entertaining one. 

The Indians may be seen eating bundles of meat 
from their fingers and drinking tankards of iced but- 
termilk. The Mexicans, a shade more civilized, 
shovel with their knives great quantities of the same 
food into the capacious receptacles provided by na- 
ture. The Americans, despite what is said of their 
rapid eating, take time to laugh and crack jokes, 
and finish their repast with a product only known to 
the highest civilization — ice-cream. 

When the "Wild West" visited Boston, one hot 
June day the parade passed a children's hospital on 
the way to the show-grounds. Many of the little 
invahds were unable to leave their couches. All 
who could do so ran to the open windows and 
gazed eagerly at the passing procession, and the 

302 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 303 

greatest excitement prevailed. These more fortu- 
nate little ones described, as best they could, to the 
little sufferers who could not leave their beds the 
wonderful things they saw. The Indians were the 
special admiration of the children. After the pro- 
cession passed, one wee lad, bedridden by spinal 
trouble, cried bitterly because he had not seen it. 
A kind-hearted nurse endeavored to soothe the 
child, but words proved unavailing. Then a bright 
idea struck the patient woman; she told him he 
might write a letter to the great "Buffalo Bill" him- 
self and ask him for an Indian's picture. 

The idea was taken up with delight, and the child 
spent an eager hour In penning the letter. It was 
pathetic in its simplicity. The little sufferer told 
the great exhibitor that he was sick in bed, was un- 
able to see the Indians when they passed the hos- 
pital, and that he longed to see a photograph of one. 

The important missive was mailed, and even the 
impatient little invalid knew it was useless to ex- 
pect an answer that day. The morning had hardly 
dawned before a child's bright eyes were open. 
Every noise was listened to, and he wondered when 
the postman would bring him a letter. The nurse 
hardly dared to hope that a busy man like Buffalo 
Bill would take time to respond to the wish of a 
sick child. 

"Colonel Cody is a very busy man," she said. 
"We must be patient." 

At perhaps the twentieth repetition of this re- 
mark the door opened noiselessly. In came a six- 
foot Indian, clad In leather trousers and wrapped 
in a scarlet blanket. He wore a head-dress of tall, 
waving feathers, and carried his bow In his hand. 



304 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

The little Invalids gasped In wonder; then they 
shrieked with delight. One by one, silent and noise- 
less, but smiling, six splendid warriors followed the 
iirst. The visitors had evidently been well trained, 
and had received explicit directions as to their ac- 
tions. 

So unusual a sight in the orderly hospital so 
startled the nurse that she could not even speak. The 
warriors drev/ up in a line and saluted her. The 
happy children were shouting in such glee that the 
poor woman's fright was unnoticed. 

The Indians ranged themselves in the narrow 
space between the cots, laid aside their gay blankets, 
placed their bows upon the floor, and waving their 
arms to and fro, executed a quiet war-dance. A 
sham battle was fought, followed by a song of vic- 
tory. After this the blankets were again donned, 
the kindly red men went away, still smIHng as be- 
nignly as their war paint would allow them to do. 
A cheer of gratitude and delight followed them 
down the broad corridors. The happy children 
talked about Buffalo Bill and the ^'Wild West'' for 
weeks after this visit. 

North Platte had long urged my brother to bring 
the exhibition there. The citizens wished to see the 
mammoth tents spread over the ground where the 
scout once followed the trail on the actual war-path;' 
they desired that their famous fellow-citizen should 
thus honor his home town. A performance was 
finally given there on October 12, 1896, the special 
car bearing Will and his party arriving the preced- 
ing day, Sunday. The writer of these chronicles 
joined the party In Omaha, and we left that city 
after the Saturday night performance. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 305 

The Union Pacific Railroad had offered my 
brother every inducement to make this trip ; among 
other things, the officials promised to make special 
time in running from Omaha to North Platte. 

When we awoke Sunday morning, we found that 
in some way the train had been delayed, that in- 
stead of making special time we were several hours 
late. Will telegraphed this fact to the officials. At 
the next station double-headers were put on, and the 
gain became at once perceptible. At Grand Island 
a congratulatory telegram was sent, noting the gain 
in time. At the next station we passed the Light- 
ning Express, the "flyer,'* to which usually every- 
thing gives way, and the good faith of the company 
was evidenced by the fact that this train was side- 
tracked to make way for Buffalo Bill's *Wild 
West" train. Another message was sent over the 
wires to the officials; it read as follows: 

"Have just noticed that Lightning Express is side-tracked to 
make way for Wild West. I herewith promote you to top seat ia 
heaven." 

The trip was a continued ovation. Every sta- 
tion was thronged, and Will was obliged to step out 
on the platform and make a bow to the assembled 
crowds, his appearance being invariably greeted 
with a round of cheers. When we reached the sta- 
tion at North Platte, we found that the entire popu- 
lation had turned out to receive their fellow-towns- 
man. The ''Cody Guards," a band to which Will 
presented beautiful uniforms of white broadcloth 
trimmed with gold braid, struck up the strains of 
*'See, the Conquering Hero Comes." The major 
attempted to do the welcoming honors of the city, 



3o6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

but it was impossible for him to make himself 
heard. Cheer followed cheer from the enthusiastic 
crowd. 

We had expected to reach the place some hours 
earlier, but. our late arrival encroached upon the 
hour of church service. The ministers discovered 
that it was impossible, to hold their congregations; 
so they were dismissed, and the pastors accompanied 
them to the station, one reverend gentleman humor- 
ously remarking: 

"We shall be obliged to take for our text this 
morning ^Buffalo Bill and his Wild West,' and will 
now proceed to the station for the discourse." 

WilFs tally-ho coach, drawn by six horses, was 
in waiting for the incoming party. The members 
of his family seated themselves in that conveyance, 
and we passed through the town, preceded and fol- 
lowed by a band. As we arrived at the home resi- 
dence, both bands united in a welcoming strain of 
martial music. 

My oldest sister, Julia, whose husband is man- 
ager of "Scout's Rest Ranch," when informed that 
the "Wild West" was to visit North Platte, con- 
ceived the idea of making this visit the occasion of 
a family reunion. We had never met in an un- 
broken circle since the days of our first separation, 
but as a result of her efforts we sat thus that even- 
ing in my brother's home. The next day our 
mother-sister, as she had always been regarded, en- 
tertained us at "Scout's Rest Ranch." 

The "Wild West" exhibition had visited Duluth 
for the first time that same year. This city has a 
population of 65,000. North Platte numbers 3,500. 
When he wrote to me of his intention to take the 



ji 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 307 

exhibition to Duluth, Will offered to make a wager 
that his own little town would furnish a bigger 
crowd than would the city of my residence. I could 
not accept any such inferred slur upon the Zenith 
City, so accepted the wager, a silk hat against a fur 
cloak. 

October 12th, the date of the North Platte per- 
formance, dawned bright and cloudless. "To-day 
decides our wager," said Will. "I expect there will 
be two or three dozen people out on this prairie. 
Duluth turned out a good many thousands, so I 
suppose you think your wager as good as won." 

The manager of the tents evidently thought the 
outlook a forlorn one. I shared his opinion, and 
was, in fancy, already the possessor of a fine fur 
cloak. 

^'Colonel, shall we stretch the full canvas?" asked 
the tent man. 

"Every inch of it," was the prompt response. 
"We want to show North Platte the capacity of the 
Wild West,' at any rate." 

As we started for the grounds Will was evidently 
uncertain over the outcome, in spite of his previous 
boast of the reception North Platte would give him. 
"We'll have a big tent and plenty of room to spare 
in it," he observed. 

But as we drove to the grounds we soon began to 
see indications of a coming crowd. The people were 
pouring in from all directions; the very atmosphere 
seemed populated; as the dust was nearly a foot 
deep on the roads, the moving populace made the 
air almost too thck or breathing. It was during 
the time of the county fair, and managers of the 
Union Pacific road announced that excursion trains 



3o8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

would be run from every town and hamlet, the 
officials and their families coming up from Omaha 
on a special car. Where the crowds came from it 
was impossible to say. It looked as if a feat of 
magic had been performed, and that the stones were 
turned into men, or, perchance, that, as in olden 
tales, they came up out of the earth. 

Accustomed though he is to the success of the 
show. Will was dumfounded by this attendance. As 
the crowds poured in I became alarmed about my 
wager. I visited the ticket-seller and asked how 
the matter stood. 

"It's pretty close,'' he answered. "Duluth seems 
to be dwindling away before the mightiness of the 
Great American Desert." 

This section of the country, which was a wilder- 
ness only a few years ago, assembled over ten thou- 
sand people to attend a performance of the ''Wild 
West." 

Omaha, where the opening performance of this 
exhibition was given, honored Will last year by set- 
ting apart one day as "Cody Day." August 31st 
was devoted to his reception, and a large and enthu- 
siastic crowd gathered to do the Nebraska pioneer 
honor. The parade reached the fair-grounds at 
eleven o'clock, where it was fittingly received by one 
hundred and fifty mounted Indians from the en- 
campment. A large square space had been reserved 
for the reception of the party in front of the Sher- 
man gate. As it filed through, great applause was 
sent up by the waiting multitude, and the noise be- 
came deafening when my brother made his appear- 
ance on a magnificent chestnut horse, thef gift of 
General Miles. He was accompanied by a large 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 309 

party of officials and Nebraska pioneers, who dis- 
mounted to seat themselves on the grand-stand. 
Prominent among these were the governor of the 
state, Senator Thurston, and Will's old friend and 
first employer, Mr. Alexander Majors. As Will 
ascended the platform- he was met by General Man- 
ager Clarkson, who welcomed him in the name of 
the president of the exposition, whose official duties 
precluded his presence. Governor Holcomb was 
then introduced, and his speech was a brief review 
of the evolution of Nebraska from a wilderness of 
a generation ago to the great state which produced 
this marvelous exposition. Manager Clarkson re- 
marked, as he introduced Mr. Majors: "Here is 
the father of them all, Alexander Majors, a man 
connected with the very earliest history of Ne- 
braska, and the business father of Colonel Cody." 

This old pioneer was accorded a reception only 
a shade less enthusiastic than that which greeted the 
hero of the day. He said: 

"Gentlemen, and My Boy, Colonel Cody: [Laughter.] Can I 
say a few words of welcome? Friend Creighton and I came down 
here together to-day, and he thought I was not equal to the occa- 
sion. Gentlemen, I do not know whether I am equal to the occa- 
sion at this time, but I am going to do the best for you that I can. 
Give me your hand, Colonel. Gentlemen, forty-three years ago this 
day, this fine-looking physical specimen of manhood was brought 
to me by his mother — a little boy nine years old — and little did I 
think at that time that the boy that was standing before me, asking 
for employment of some kind by which I could afford to pay his 
mother a little money for his services, was going to be a boy of 
such destiny as he has turned out to be. In this country we have 
great men, we have great men in Washington, we have men who 
are famous as politicians in this country; we have great statesmen, 
we have had Jackson and Grant, and we had Lincoln; we have 
men great in agriculture and in stock-growing, and in the manu- 
facturing business men who have made great names fcr themselves, 
who have stood high in the nation. Next, and even greater, we 
have a Cody. He, gentlemen, stands before you now, known the 



310 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

wide world over as the last of the great scouts. When the boy 
Cody came to me, standing straight as an arrow, and looked me 
in the face, I said to my partner, Mr. Russell, who was standing 
by my side, *We will take this little boy, and we will pay him a 
man's wages, because he can ride a pony just as well as a man 
can.' He was lighter and could do service of that kind when he 
was nine years old. I remember when we paid him twenty-five 
dollars for the first month's work. He was paid In half-dollars, 
and he got fifty of them. He tied them up in his little handker- 
chief, and when he got home he untied the handkerchief and spread 
the money all over the table." 

Colonel Cody — "I have been spreading It ever 
since.'* 

A few remarks followed Indicative of Mr. Ma- 
jor's appreciation of the exhibition, and he closed 
with the remark, ^'Bless your precious heart, Col- 
onel Cody!" and sat down, amid great applause. 

Senator Thurston's remarks were equally happy. 
He said: 

"Colonel Cody, this is your day. This is your exposition. This 
is your city. And we all rejoice that Nebraska is your state. You 
have carried the fame of our country and of our state all over the 
civilized world; you have been received and honored by princes, 
by emperors, and by kings ; the titled women in the courts of the 
nations of the world have been captivated by your charm of man- 
ner and your splendid manhood. You are known wherever you go, 
abroad or in the United States, as Colonel Cody, the best repre- 
sentative of the great and progressive West. You stand here to-day 
in the midst of a wonderful assembly. Here are representatives of 
the heroic and daring characters of most of the nations of the 
world. You are entitled to the honor paid you to-day, and espe- 
cially entitled to it here. This people know you as a man who has 
carried this demonstration of yours to foreign lands, and exhibited 
it at home. You have not been a showman in the common sense of 
the word. You have been a great national^ and International edu- 
cator of men. You have furnished a demonstration of the possibili- 
ties of our country that has advanced us in the opinion of all the 
world. But we who have been with you a third, or more than a 
third, of a century, we remember you more dearly and tenderly 
than others do. We remember that when this whole Western land 
was a wilderness, when these representatives of the aborigines were 
attempting to hold their own against the onward tide of civilization, 
the settler and the hardy pioneer, the women and the children, felt 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 311 

safe whenever Cody rode along the frontier ; he was their protector 
and defender. 

"Cody, this is your home. You live in the hearts of the people 
of our state. God bless you and keep you and prosper you in your 
splendid work." 

Will was deeply touched by these strong expres- 
sions from his friends. As he moved to the front 
of the platform to respond, his appearance was the 
signal for a prolonged burst of cheers. He said : 

"You cannot expect me to make adequate response for the honor 
which you have bestowed upon me to-day. You have overwhelmed 
my speaking faculties. I cannot corral enough ideas to attempt a 
coherent reply in response to the honor which you have accorded me. 
How little I dreamed in the long ago that the lonely path of the 
scout and the pony-express rider would lead me to the place you 
have assigned me to-day. Here, near the banks of the mighty Mis- 
souri, which flows unvexed to the sea, my thoughts revert to the 
early days of my manhood. I looked eastward across this rushing 
tide to the Atlantic, and dreamed that in that long-settled region all 
men were rich and all women happy. My friends, that day has 
come and gone. I stand among you a witness that nowhere in the 
broad universe are men richer in manly integrity, and women hap- 
pier in their domestic kingdom, than here in our own Nebraska. 

"I have sought fortune in many lands, but wherever I have 
wandered, the flag of our beloved state has been unfurled to every 
breeze from the Platte to the Danube, from the Tiber to the Clyde, 
the emblem of our sovereign state has always floated over the 
'Wild West.' Time goes on and brings with it new duties and 
responsibilities, but we 'old men,' we who are called old-timers, 
cannot forget the trials and tribulations which we had to en- 
counter while paving the path for civilization and national pros- 
perity. 

"The whistle of the locomotive has drowned the howl of the 
coyote; the barb-wire fence has narrowed the range of the cow- 
puncher; but no material evidence of prosperity can obliterate our 
contribution to Nebraska's imperial progress. 

"Through your kindness to-day I have tasted the sweetest fruit 
that grows on ambition's tree. If you extend your kindness and 
permit me to fall back into the ranks as a high private, my cup 
will be full. 

"In closing, let me call upon the 'Wild West, the Congress of 
Rough Riders of the World,' to voice their appreciation of the 
kindness you have shown them to-day." 

At a given signal the "Wild West" gave three 
ringing cheers for Nebraska and the Trans-Missis* 



312 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

slppi Exposition. The cowboy band followed with 
the "Red, White, and Blue," and an exposition band 
responded with the "Star-Spangled Banner." The 
company fell Into line for a parade around the 
grounds. Colonel Cody following on his chestnut 
horse, Duke. After him came the officials and in- 
vited guests in carriages; then came the Cossacks, 
Cubans, the German cavalry, the United States 
cavalry, the Mexicans, and representatives of 
twenty-five countries. 

As the parade neared its end, my brother turned 
to his friends and suggested that as they had been 
detained long past the dinner-hour in doing him 
honor, he would like to compensate them by giving 
an informal spread. This invitation was promptly 
accepted, and the company adjourned to a cafe, 
where a tempting luncheon was spread before them. 
Never before had such a party of pioneers met 
around a banquet-table, and many were the reminis- 
cences of early days brought out. Mr. Majors, the 
the originator of the Pony Express line, was there. 
The two Creighton brothers, who put through the 
first telegraph line, and took the occupation of the 
express riders from them, had seats of honor. A. 
D. Jones was introduced as the man who carried the 
first postoffice of Omaha around in his hat, and who 
still wore the hat. Numbers of other pioneers 
were there, and each contributed his share of racy 
anecdotes and pleasant reminiscences. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

The story of frontier days is a tale that is told. 
The "Wild West" has vanished like mist In the sun 
before the touch of the two great magicians of the 
nineteenth century — steam and electricity. 

The route of the old historic Santa Fe trail is 
nearly followed by the Atchison, Topeka and Santa 
Fe Railroad, which was completed In 1880. The 
silence of the prairie was once broken by the wild 
war-whoop of the Indian as he struggled to main- 
tain his supremacy over some adjoining tribe; the 
muffled roar caused by the heavy hoof-beats of thou- 
sands of buffaloes was almost the only other sound 
that broke the stillness. To-day the shriek of the 
engine, the clang of the bell, and the clatter of the 
car-wheels form a ceaseless accompaniment to the 
cheerful hum of busy life which everywhere per- 
vades the wilderness of thirty years ago. Almost 
the only memorials of the struggles and privations 
of the hardy trappers and explorers, whose daring 
courage made the achievements of the present pos- 
sible, are the historic landmarks which bear the 
names of some of these brave men. But these are 

313 



314 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

very few in number. Pike's Peak lifts its snowy 
head to heaven In silent commemoration of the early 
traveler whose name it bears. Simpson's Rest, a 
lofty obelisk, commemorates the mountaineer whose 
life was for the most part passed upon its rugged 
slopes, and whose last request was that he should be 
buried on its summit. Another cloud-capped moun- 
tain-height bears the name of Fisher's Peak, and 
thereby hangs a tale. 

Captain Fisher commanded a battery in the army 
engaged in the conquest of New Mexico. His com- 
mand encamped near the base of the mountain which 
now bears his name. Deceived by the illusive effect 
of the atmosphere, he started out for a morning 
stroll to the supposed near-by elevation, announc- 
ing that he would return in time for breakfast. The 
day passed with no sign of Captain Fisher, and 
night lengthened into a new day. When the second 
day passed without his return, his command was 
forced to believe that he had fallen a prey to lurk- 
ing Indians, and the soldiers were sadly taking their 
seats for their evening meal when the haggard and 
wearied captain put in an appearance. His morning 
stroll had occupied two days and a night; but he set 
out to visit the mountain, and he did It. 

The transcontinental line which supplanted the 
Old Salt Lake trail, and Is now known as the Union 
Pacific Railroad, antedated the Atchison, Topeka 
and Santa Fe by eleven years. The story of the dif- 
ficulties encountered, and the obstacles overcome In 
the building of this road, furnishes greater marvels 
than any narrated in the Arabian Nights' Tales. 

This railroad superseded the Pony Express line, 
the reeking, panting horses of which used their ut- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 315 

most endeavor and carried their relentless riders fif- 
teen miles an hour, covering their circuit in eight 
days' time at their swiftest rate of speed. The iron 
horse gives a sniff of disdain, and easily traverses 
the same distance, from the Missouri line to the 
Pacific Coast, in three days. 

Travelers who step aboard the swiftly moving, 
luxurious cars of to-day give little thought to their 
predecessors; for the dangers the early voyagers en- 
countered they have no sympathy. The traveler in 
the stagecoach was beset by perils without from the 
Indians and the outlaws; he faced the equally un- 
pleasant companionship of fatigue and discomfort 
within. The jolting, swinging coach bounced and 
jounced the unhappy passengers as the reckless 
driver lashed the flying horses. Away they galloped 
over mountains and through ravines, with no cessa- 
tion of speed. Even the shipper pays the low rate 
of transportation asked to-day with reluctance, and 
forgets the great debt he owes this adjunct of our 
civilization. 

But great as are the practical benefits derived 
from the railways, we cannot repress a sigh as we 
meditate on the picturesque phases of the vanished 
era. Gone are the bull-whackers and the prairie- 
schooners! Gone are the stagecoaches and their 
drivers! Gone are the Pony Express riders ! Gone 
are the trappers, the hardy pioneers, the explorers, 
and the scouts! Gone is the prairie monarch, the 
shaggy, unkempt buffalo ! 

In 1869, only thirty years ago, the train on the 
Kansas Pacific road was delayed eight hours in con- 
sequence of the passage of an enormous herd of 
buffaloes over the track in front of it. But the easy 



3i6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

mode of travel introduced by the railroad brought 
hundreds of sportsmen to the plains, who wantonly 
killed this noble animal solely for sport, and thou- 
sands of buffaloes were sacrificed for their skins, for 
which there was a widespread demand. From 1868 
to 1 88 1, in Kansas alone, there was paid out $2,- 
500,000 for the bones of this animal, which were 
gathered up on the prairie and used in the carbon 
works of the country. This represents a total death- 
rate of 31,000,000 buffaloes in one state. As far 
as I am able to ascertain, there remains at this 
writing only one herd, of less than twenty animals, 
out of all the countless thousands that roamed the 
prairie so short a time ago, and this herd is care- 
fully preserved in a private park. There may be a 
few isolated specimens In menageries and shows, 
but this wholesale slaughter has resulted in the prac- 
tical extermination of the species. 

As with the animal native to our prairies, so has 
It been with the race native to our land. We may 
deplore the wrongs of the Indian, and sympathize 
with his efforts to wrest justice from his so-called 
protectors. We may admire his poetic nature, as 
evidenced in the myths and legends of the race. We 
may be impressed by the stately dignity and innate 
ability as orator and statesman which he displays. 
We may preserve the different articles of his pic- 
turesque garb as relics. But the old, old drama of 
history is repeating itself before the eyes of this 
generation; the inferior must give way to the su- 
perior civilization. The poetic, picturesque, primi- 
tive red man must inevitably succumb before the all- 
conquering tread of his pitiless, practical, progres- 
sive white brother. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 317 

Cooper has Immortalized for us the extinction of 
a people in the "Last of the Mohicans." Many an- 
other tribe has passed away, unhonored and unsung. 
Westward the "Star of Empire" takes its way; the 
great domain west of the Mississippi is now peopled 
by the white race, while the Indians are shut up in 
reservations. Their doom Is sealed; their sun is 
set. "Kismet" has been spoken of them; the total 
extinction of the race is only a question of time. In 
the words of Rudyard Kipling: 

"Take up the White Man's burden — 

Ye dare not stoop to less — 
Nor call too loud on freedm 

To cloke your weariness. 
By all ye will or whisper, 

By all ye leave or do, 
The silent, sullen peoples 

Shall weigh your God and you." 

Of this past epoch of our national life there re- 
mains but one well-known representative. That one 
is my brother. He occupies a unique place in the 
portrait gallery of famous Americans to-day. It is 
not alone his commanding personality, nor the suc- 
cess he has achieved along various lines, which gives 
him the strong hold he has on the hearts of the 
American people, or the absorbing interest he pos- 
sesses in the eyes of foreigners. The fact that In 
his own person he condenses a period of national 
history Is a large factor in the fascination he exer- 
cises over others. He may fitly be named the "Last 
of the Great Scouts." He has had great predeces- 
sors. The mantle of Kit Carson has fallen upon 
his shoulders, and he wears It worthily. He has 
not, and never can have, a successor. He Is the 
vanishing-point between the rugged wilderness of the 



3i8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

past in Western life and the vast achievement in the 
present. 

When the **Wild West'' disbands, the last vestige 
of our frontier hfe passes from the scene of active 
realities, and becomes a matter of history. 

"Life is real, life is earnest," sings the poet, and 
real and earnest it has been for my brother. It has 
been spent in others' service. I cannot recall a time 
when he has not thus been laden with heavy bur- 
dens. Yet for himself he has won a reputation, na- 
tional and international. A naval officer visiting in 
China relates that as he stepped ashore he was of- 
fered two books for purchase — one the Bible, the 
other a "Life of Buffalo Bill." 

For nearly half a century, which comprises his 
childhood, youth, and manhood, my brother has 
been before the public. He can scarcely be said to 
have had a childhood, so early was he thrust among 
the rough scenes of frontier life, therein to play a 
man's part at an age when most boys think of noth- 
ing more than marbles and tops. He enlisted in the 
Union army before he was of age, and did his share 
in upholding the flag during the Civil War as ably 
as many a veteran of forty, and since then he has 
remained, for the most part, in his country's serv- 
ice, always ready to go to the front in any time of 
danger. He has achieved distinction in many and 
various ways. He is president of the largest irriga- 
tion enterprise in the world, president of a coloniza- 
tion company, of a town-site company, and of two 
transportation companies. He is the foremost 
scout and champion buffalo-hunter of America, one 
of the crack shots of the world, and its greatest 
popular entertainer. He is broad-minded and pro- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 319 

gressive In his views, Inheriting from both father 
and mother a hatred of oppression in any form. 
Taking his mother as a standard, he believes the 
franchise is a birthright which should appertain to 
intelligence and education, rather than to sex. It Is 
his public career that lends an Interest to his private 
life, in which he has been a devoted and faithful son 
and brother, a kind and considerate husband, a lov- 
ing and generous father. "Only the names of them 
that are upright, brave, and true can be honorably 
known,'* were the mother's dying words; and honor- 
ably known has his name become, In his own country 
and across the sea. 

With the fondest expectation he looks forward to 
the hour when he shall make his final bow to the 
public and retire to private life. It Is his long- 
cherished desire to devote his remaining years to the 
development of the Big Horn Basin, In Wyoming. 
He has visited every country in Europe, and has 
looked upon the most beautiful of Old World scenes. 
He is familiar with all the most splendid regions of 
his own land, but to him this new El Dorado of the 
West Is the fairest spot on earth. 

He has already Invested thousands of dollars and 
given much thought and attention toward the ac- 
complishment of his pet scheme. An Irrigating ditch 
costing nearly a million dollars now waters this fer- 
tile region, and various other improvements are 
under way, to prepare a land flowing with milk and 
honey for the reception of thousands of homeless 
wanderers. Like the children of Israel, these would 
never reach the promised land but for the untiring 
efforts of a Moses to go on before; but unlike the 
ancient guide and scout of sacred history, my brother 



320 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

has been privileged to penetrate the remotest corner 
of this primitive land of Canaan. The log cabin he 
has erected there is not unlike the one of our child- 
hood days. Here he finds his haven of rest, his 
health-resort, to which he hastens when the show 
season is over and he is free again for a space. He 
finds refreshment in the healthful, invigorating at- 
mosphere of his chosen retreat; he enjoys sweet 
solace from the cares of life under the influence of 
its magnificent scenery. 

And here, in the shadow of the Rockies, yet In the 
very "light of things," it Is his wish to finish his 
days as he began them, In opening up for those who 
come after him the great regions of the still unde- 
veloped West, and in poring over the lesson learned 
as a boy on the plains : 

"That nature never did betray 
The heart that loved her." 



Zane Gray Adds the Finishing Touch to the 

Story by Telling of the Last Days of 

THE Last of the Great Scouts 

And now the last of the Great Scouts has crossed 
the Great Divide. 

There is now only one left of that magnificent 
group of frontiersmen who opened up the west to 
civilization. And strange to relate, he shared a 
fame only second to Cody's, and a name somewhat 
similar. Buffalo Jones! I told his story in "The 
Last of the Plainsmen." Buh'ilo Bill and Buffalo 
Jones were life-long friends. Buffalo Bill earned 
his fame by killing thousands of buffalo. Buffalo 
Jones earned his by capturing and preserving buffalo 
calves to prevent the extinction of the species. 

Here is what Buffalo Jones writes me about 
Buffalo Bill: 

"About a half century ago I met Cody in Aba- 
line, Kansas. He was city marshal. He said to 
me: 

" Toung man, we have organized a law and order 
league. Are you with us or against us?' 

" *rm with you,' was my reply. 

" *From that day to his death we were true 
friends. On that meeting he asked m.e to drink with 
him, and I refused. During the fifty years of our 

321 



322 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

acquaintance I met him hundreds of times, all over 
the world, I might say, and he respected my temper- 
ance habit to the extent that he never asked me to 
drink again. The last time I met him was some 
years ago in Kansas City, where we three old-timers 
— Buffalo Bill, Pawnee Bill and I — had our picture 
taken together. 

^'Buffalo Bill was a wonderful character and a 
great man.'' 

The last performance of Buffalo Bill's "Wild 
West" took place in Denver about 19 13. The show 
was attached for debts and was finally taken into the 
Sells-Floto circus. The Sells people advertised him 
as "Buffalo Bill Himself," and he appeared in the 
performances for some time, probably for nearly a 
year, and then he associated himself with the "loi 
Ranch." But he soon tired of this lessening tide In 
his fortunes, and particularly the show business. He 
went to Cody, Wyoming, to look after his private 
ranching interests, and there to try to recover his 
failing health. Nearly seventy years old, 111 and 
broken, and almost penniless, he faced a new and 
strange trail. All his personal property had gone 
in the break-up of his "Wild West" show. 

Cody went to Denver. He was planning another 
"Wild West" show. But there he broke down and 
went to the home of his youngest sister, Mrs. Mary 
Cody Decker. After a few weeks of slowly failing 
strength he died on January 10, 1917. It is the 
opinion of his close friends that his failing health 
and death were due to a broken heart. 

Mr. Chauncey Thomas, the well-known writer of 
Outdoor Life, knew Cody personally and had the 
last interview with the great scout. I venture to pre- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 323 

diet that this Interview will become historical; and 
I am Indebted to Mr. Thomas for permission to 
quote him : 

"The greatest thing Buffalo Bill ever did, a thing 
that few men throughout the ages have ever 
equalled, was to give a new game to the children of 
the world. And in that his fame will probably out- 
live Caesar's, for when Caesar and Napoleon have 
faded into oblivion Buffalo Bill will have become a 
legendary hero, known in the literature and the 
legends and the children's games of civilizations yet 
to come. At one time Cinderella, SInbad, Robinson 
Crusoe, Friday, and their kind undoubtedly lived In 
the flesh, but so long ago that the memory of man 
runneth not to the contrary. What Robin Hood was 
to England, so Buffalo Bill will probably be to 
America. . . . 

"Buffalo Bill took the American frontier around 
the world. London, Paris, Berlin, people by the 
million the earth around saw with their own eyes, 
not an imitation, not a mere stage or theatrical ef- 
fect, but the real thing. Here, before their own 
eyes, were the actual men, red and white, who rode 
the Western plains of America. No other man has 
ever done that, no other man now can do that. 
Buffalo Bill benefited, the West benefited, the whole 
world benefited by it, and no one lost. That our 
outdoor West is known all over the earth as in no 
other country, we owe to Buffalo Bill, and to no one 
else. 

"But his last days were as quiet, calm and peace- 
ful as his life had been active and brilliant. Mrs. 
May Cody Decker, in whose home he died, gave 
her brother every care and attention that love and 



324 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

admiration could bestow. May Cody was his young- 
est sister, and he often used to take her with him on 
the plains in the early days. Between the two was 
a life-long bond that few sisters know, and when his 
death drew near Buffalo Bill went to her home. 

"When the doctors told him that he would never 
see another sunset, Buffalo Bill dropped his head on 
his breast for a moment, a long, still moment, then 
raised it, fearlessly and serene. Those eagle eyes, 
keen and kindly as ever they were, looked long at 
the mountains^ snowy In the distance, then he quietly 
gave a few directions about his funeral, and then 
again became the knightly, genial man he had al- 
ways been. The man was majestic. 

"In the room were his two sisters, Mrs. May 
Cody Decker and Mrs. Julia Cody Goodman, and 
another relative. Miss Hazel Olive Bennet — who 
made this story possible, and to whose kindly Influ- 
ence and intelligent cooperation the world is in- 
debted for this Interview — myself, and that white, 
calm figure, William Frederick Cody. 

"It was the End, and we all knew it. We talked 
at random, as all do, perhaps, at such times. I can 
make no attempt to put down here what was said, 
as if this were a stenographic report. The Grand 
Old American talked of this and of that, now of the 
early days on the Great Plains, now of the boyhood 
of the present King of England — and in the room 
was a personal message from that King, and an- 
other from the President of the United States, and 
from others of equal rank throughout the world. 
Buffalo Bill, Colonel Cody, Pa-has-ka, they came and 
went, but the center of that last group was ^Brother 
Will' 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 325 

"But his mind went back eagerly to the minor de- 
tails of his earlier life and to the names of those he 
used to know, who long ago passed beyond the 
Great White Range. We talked of many of the 
old friends of my father's, W. R. Thomas, like 
Reno, Custer, Benteen, Captain Mix, Grant, Sheri- 
dan, Carr, Crook, and Sherman, and the few I had 
known when a boy — the soldiers, stage-drivers and 
scouts of the early days. 

"Then I spoke of guns. *Which gun was his 
favorite ?' 

" 'Lucretia Borgia,' he smiled. That was the 
name of his favorite buffalo gun. 

" *The old fifty-caliber Springfield needle-gun?' I 
asked. 

" *No, forty-eight caliber. The muzzle loaders 
of the Civil War were fifty-two caliber, you remem- 
ber* — I didn't because I was- not born till after the 
war, and he laughed — 'but they made the breech- 
loading Springfield forty-eight caliber. I liked it 
better than the Sharps, and with It I killed 4,250 
buffalo one year — or 4,862 in eighteen months, 
besides deer and antelope — for the Union Pacific 
builders.' 

" 'Did you always use the same gun?' 

" 'Practically so. The barrel of Lucretia Borgia 
is now on the elk horns at the ranch, with the knife 
with which I killed Yellow Hand. I don't know 
where the stock Is' — and here the white head 
drooped wearily, and some one took up the talk for 
a while. 

*' 'Yes,' he began again, 'I have killed over 40,- 
000 buffalo, and most of them with that old gun. 
But not all of them, of course.' 



326 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

" 'That was your favorite gun, then?' 

" *It is nov/, but our term of service on the Plains 
covered so many years, and so many different kinds 
of guns came into use that we tried out this one, 
then that one. The '73 Winchester was well liked, 
as was the Spencer carbine, especially on horseback, 
but they could not shoot alongside of the .48-caliber 
needle-gun. That carried 70 grains of powder and 
470 grains of lead. ''Shoot to-day! — kill to-mor- 
row!" was what the Indians called it.' 

** That was my father's rifle, and I love that 
gun.' 

"I asked him about the old buffalo Sharps rifle, 
the .45-120-550 gun that weighed from sixteen to 
eighteen pounds, or the .44-caliber, bottle-neck, 
eleven-pound Sharps, like the one I own, my first 
rifle, and that were the usual favorites with the buf- 
falo-killers, but he did not say much about them. 
To my surprise he did not seem interested in them 
at all. I presume the reason was that he usually 
hunted buffalo from horseback, and so did not use 
these heavy rifles, as did the men who killed from 
the ground. 

"Then I learned how he killed his buffalo and 
how he got his name. He used to ride on the right- 
hand side of a herd as near to the front as he could 
get, and always shoot to the left hand, as a rifle- 
man on horseback naturally would do. This method 
usually caused the herd soon to run in a solid 
circle, or to 'mill,' as the cattlemen call it, and this 
kept the herd in one place, running round and round 
and round like a wheel. Thus one could kill as 
many as were needed for that day, and have them 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 327 

all in the same spot, convenient for the skinners and 
the meat wagons. 

"The other method— one he did not use so much 
as others did — was to *get a stand^ on a small herd 
and shoot down the anim.als that v/ere inclined to 
break away and lead the herd out of range. From 
this method comes, I have no doubt, our present 
purely American word, *to buffalo,' meaning to have 
some one confused, intimidated, bluffed and outgen- 
eraled. 

*'But he did not consider this so much hunting as 
It was railroad building, opening the wilderness to 
civilization, and that the buffalo had to go as the 
first step in subduing the Indian; also because 
cattle-raising and farming, as every old-timer knows, 
was impossible where the buffalo were. The wild 
cattle (the buffalo), savage and untamable as the 
wolves that followed them, ruined fences and crops 
and killed all domestic cattle, for it is death for the 
domestic cow — due to the hump on the calf — to 
breed with the buffalo bull, and the buffalo bulls 
could easily run down and kill any domestic bull. 

"The elimination of the buffalo was not wanton; 
it was necessary. In their place to-day are domestic 
cattle, less picturesque but far more valuable to 
mankind. I speak of this somewhat at length out 
of justice to Buffalo Bill. He never killed for 
slaughter's own sake. The more than forty thou- 
sand that fell to his rifle were killed for food, just 
as we kill to-day. He fed with wild meat the men 
who laid the first iron trail across the plains, who 
first linked the two oceans with a path of steel. 

" Who was the best revolver shot you ever 
knew?' I asked. 



328 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

" 'Frank North, white chief of the Pawnees. He 
was the best revolver shot, standing still, in the air, 
from horseback, or at running animals or men, that 
I ever saw,' and again those dark eagle eyes of the 
Old Scout lit up like an excited boy's. Then came 
his sister's lifted hand of caution behind his shoul- 
der, and I changed the subject, for that great heart 
was liable to stop at any instant, and we had to 
avoid anything tending to excite him. But after a 
time I came back to the same subject. 

" Was Wild Bill one of the quickest shots?' I 
ventured. 

" *FaIr,' smiled Cody, and I too smiled to hear a 
man say that Wild Bill was a *fair' shot. But this 
was Buffalo Bill speaking, and he spoke as one 
with authority. 

tt t "gill" -^^g Qniy ^ nickname we gave him, you 
know.' I didn't know, but nodded. *His real name 
was James B. Hickox, and we got to calling him 
"Wild Bill" because when we were all boys to- 
gether there were four "Bills" in the v/agon train, 
and we had to sort them out somehow. Jim Hickox 
was always popping away at everything he saw move 
when on guard at night over the stock, so we sort of 
got to calling him *'Wild" Bill, and that is how the 
name came to him. They called me "Buffalo" Bill 
because I had that buffalo contract with the U. P. 
and got down over 4,250 for meat. I have forgot- 
ten what became of the other two "Bills." ' 

" 'How did Hickox get so many men?' I asked. 

" 'Well, Bill was- a pretty good shot, but he could 
not shoot as quick as half a dozen men we all knew 
in those days. Nor as straight, either. But Bill 
was cool, and the men he went up against were rat- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 329 

tied, I guess. Bill beat them to it. He made up 
his mind to kill the other man before the other man 
had finished thinking, and so Bill would just quietly 
pull his gun and give it to him. That was all there 
was to it. It is easy enough to beat the other man 
If you start first. Bill always shot as he raised his 
gun. That is, he was never in a hurry about it; he 
just pulled the gun from his hip and let it go as he 
was raising It; s-hoot on the up-raise, you might call 
it. Most men lifted the gun higher, then threw it 
down to cock it before firing. Bill cocked it with his 
thumb, I guess, as- it was coming up into line with 
his man. That's how he did it. But he was not the 
quickest man by any means-. He was just cool and 
quiet, and started first. Bill Hickox was not a bad 
man, as Is often pictured. But he was a bad man 
to tackle. Always cool, kind, and cheerful, almost, 
about it. And he never killed a man unless that 
man was trying to kill him. That's fair.' It was, 
and so I agreed. 

" Was any particular revolver, size, or caliber the 
favorite in the early days?' 

" *No, not particularly. Like the rifles, new kinds 
and sizes came in and put other kinds out. So we 
used all kinds, and sometimes any kind we could get. 
It was the cap-and-ball Colt, then the metallic cart- 
ridge six-guns came on the plains, and they saved us 
a lot of trouble, especially in wet weather, or on 
horseback. The only way v/e could load a cap-and- 
ball on horseback was to have extra cylinders-, and 
change from an empty to a loaded one, and then re- 
load all the empty cylinders when we had a chance. 
But with wet clothes, wet hands, and everything wet, 
that was often hard to do, and sometimes we could 



330 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

not reload at all. A muzzle-loading rifle or shot- 
gun was different, because we could keep the muzzle 
and the loading things covered better. So the metal 
cartridges were a great thing.' 

*' 'Was the .45 Colt or the .44-caliber preferred 
by most men?' 

*' 'It didn't make any difference. Just what we 
happened to have.' 

" 'Was any kind of knife a special favorite on the 
plains?' 

*' 'No. Any kind that the owner liked, or could 
get. Such things as guns, revolvers and knives were 
just .like any other kind of fashion or tools. Some 
kinds were favorites, maybe, in one place or at one 
time here and there, then other kinds. I used all of 
them, I guess. But for buffalo I liked best the 
.48-caliber Springfield. "Shoot to-day! — ^kill to- 
morrow!" 

*' 'What kind of a knife did you kill Yellow Hand 
with?' 

" 'Just a big heavy bowie blade. For skinning 
and cutting up meat, of course, we used common 
butcher knives; no particular kind. Whatever we 
had or could get. Often we had to make such 
things ourselves. We were not particular, just so 
such things did their work.' , 

" 'Could the old-timers shoot better than the men 
of to-day?' 

" 'No,' and a shadow of injured pride or regret, 
it seemed like, crossed the Old Scout's face. 'No, 
we could not shoot as good as you do to-day. We 
did not have as accurate guns, either in rifles or re- 
volvers or loads. And we could not afford the 
ammunition with which to practice. I never saw 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 331 

such revolver shooting as Captain Hardy did one 
night over at his house, in that private shooting 
place he has down cellar/ 

*'But Hardy, one of the world's best shots, says 
t!:at Buffalo Bill was the best shot from horseback 
that the world has ever seen. 

" 'No; none of us, not even Frank North, could 
do such things. C. M. McCutchen can shoot a re- 
volver far faster than any man I ever knew on the 
frontier; five hits on a man at ten yards in three- 
fifths of a second is more than twice as fast as we 
could do. He is probably the fastest man with a 
revolver who ever lived. All of them to-day — the 
best shots, I mean — can beat us old-timers every 
time. But we did the work all the same. We had 
to.' 

"The voice was tired now, and the doctor came. 

" 'Brother Will, it is time for him to go,' said 
Mrs. Goodman gently, and I arose. The Old Scout 
was In pajamas and slippers, and over them had 
been drawn a house coat. Instantly Buffalo Bill was 
on his feet, straight as an Indian, head up, as In days 
of old. The man recalled the Spanish cavalier, 
courtly as the prince he was in his kindly grace, all 
unaided by gorgeous trappings or picturesque sur- 
roundings, just the Man Himself standing there, 
waxen pale, his silver hair flowing down over his 
straight, square shoulders, his hand out in fhe last 
farewell. He asked for me afterwards, but the 
doctors said, 'No.' But as we all stood up in that 
little home room a silence fell. It was the last time. 
I knew it; he knew it; we all knew it. But on the 
surface not a sign. 

*!- *Good-bye.' " i 



332 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 

The Denver Post of January 14, 19 17, said in 
part: 

WEST TO BID FAREWELL TO-DAY TO BUFFALO BILL AS 
THOUSANDS GATHER TO HONOR IDOL OF PLAINS 

BODY TO LIE IN STATE AT CAPITOL THIS MORNING UNTIL NOON, WITH 
FORT LOGAN SOLDIERS FORMING GUARD OF HONOR AND ESCORT 

Farewell, Pa-has-ka! 

For to-day the good-bye must be said; the last glimpse taken 
of him who laid the foundations of the West, the last godspeed 
given by those who remain behind while he has gone on — on be- 
yond the setting sun and the last frontier. For to-day Denver and 
the West, assembled, will pay homage to the memory of Col. 
William Frederick Cody — "Buffalo Bill." To-day an idol goes to 
his crypt in the eternal sleep. Few in Denver won't pass by his 
casket. 

And few there will be of Denver's great population who will 
not pass beside the form of Colonel Cody as it lies in state in 
the capitol building to-day. Few will be those who will not 
gather on the streets to watch the procession as it travels from the 
state house to the Elks' home at Fourteenth and California streets 
for the eulogies and the song he loved. For Denver intends to 
say good-bye, from its school children to its most aged citizens — 
good-bye to the man who knew Denver when Denver was a weak- 
ling, who scouted the plains and fought the hostile Indians that 
the stagecoach might rock its tortuous way in and out of the 
"camp on Cherry Creek." Veterans, scouts, Indian fighters, digni- 
taries — every phase of Denver's population — will to-day walk in 
homage past the casket of Pa-has-ka to gaze for the last time 
upon the face of a man distinctive, whose niche in history never 
can be filled again. There was only one Buffalo Bill. 

They buried Buffalo Bill on a promontory of 
Lookout Mountain, near Denver. 

It was not the place he had hoped to go to his 
last sleep, but, nevertheless. It Is Indeed a fitting 
grave for the last of the great scouts. He would 
have chosen a lonelier grave, far from the crowd. 
In the years to come his resting place will be visited 
by thousands; and that will be well. The coming 
generations ought to have memorable appreciation 
of the man who so faithfully served the West. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 333 

Every hunter and plainsman and scout loved the 
solitude and loneliness of the wilds. That is what 
made them great. 

The sunset, the descending twilight, the sweet 
silence of the hills, the brightening star, the lonely- 
darkness of the night — these things Buffalo Bill 
loved. And these he will have. His life was full 
to the brim. He will not be forgotten. He repre- 
sented the onward movement of a race. Surely he 
will rest in peace there on the rocky height where 
the wind will moan and the day will break solemn 
and grand and the night fall to the end of time. 

Zane Grey. 

November, 19 17. 



ZANE GREY^S NOVELS 

May be had wherever bocks are sold. Ask for Grosset & Duntap's Hst 

THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS 
Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton. 

Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent 
Mexican border of the present day. A New York society girl buys 
a ranch which becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal 
cowboys defend her property from bandits, and her superintendent 
rescues her when she is captured by them. A surprising climax 
brings the story to a deHghtful close. 

DESERT GOLD 

Illustrated by Douglas Duer. 

Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, 
lost in the desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they 
can go no farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising 
along the border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the 
two prospectors had willed to the girl who is the story's heroine. 
RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE 
Illustrated by Douglas Duer. 

A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty vears ago when 
Mormon authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane' Withersteen, a 
rich ranch owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by 
the invisible hand of the Mormon Church to break her will. 

THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN 
Illustrated with photograph reproductions. 

This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo 
Jones, knov/n as the preserver of the American bison, across the 
Arizona desert and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of yellow 
crags, deep canons and giant pines." It is a fascinating story. 

THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT 

Jacket in color. Frontispiece. 

This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A 
lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a 
young New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands 
that the girl shall become the second wife of one of the Mormons — 

Well, that's the problem of this sensational, big selling story. 

BETTY ZANE 

Illustrated by Louis F. Grant. 

This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beauti- 
ful young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. 
Life along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty's heroic defense 
of the beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, 
and Betty's final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten storj'. 

Grosset & DuNLAP, Publishers, New York 



NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY 

WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE 

HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. 

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list 

— — ? 

MAVERICKS. 

A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose dep 
redations are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, 
abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told.^. 

A TEXAS RANGER. 



How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried 
law into the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series 
of thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then 
passed through deadly peril to ultimate happiness. ^ 

WYOMING. 

In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured 
tne breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of 
the frontier with all its v^ngaging dash and vigor. 

RIDGWAY OF MONTANA. 

The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where poli- 
vic.*? and mining industries are the religion of the country. The 
political contest, the love scene, and the fine character dra-wing give 
this story great strength and charm. . 

BUCKY O'CONNOR, 



Every chapter teems with 'wholesome, stirring adventures, re- 
plete with the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic da£!l 
and absorbing fascination of style and plot. 

' crooked TRAILS AND STRAIGHT . 

A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of 
a oitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine 
fe a most unusual woman and her love story reaches a culmination 
tliat is fittingly characteristic of the great free West. 

Kkand blotters . 

A r.tory of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid 
life of the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charm- 
ing love interest running through its 320 pages. 

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York 



STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY 

GENE ST RATTON-PORTER 

May b» had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list 



^LADDIE^ 




THE HAR\'ESTER. 



LADDIE. 

Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. 

This is a bright, cheery tale with the 
scenes laid in Indiana. The story is tolo 
by Little Sister, the youngest member ol 
a large family, but it is concerned not so 
much with childish doings as with the love 
affairs of older members of the family. 
Chief among them is that of Laddie, the 
older brother whom Little Sister adores, 
and the Princess, an English girl who has 
come to live in the neighborhood and about 
whose family there hangs a mystery. 
There is a wedding midway in the book 
and a double wedding at the close. 
Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. 

"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and 
fields, who draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother 
Nature herself. If the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure 
of this man it would be notable. But when the Girl comes to his 
*'Medicine Woods," and the Harvester's whole being realizes that 
this is the highest point of life which has come to him — there begins 
a romance of the rarest idyllic quality. 
FRECKLES , Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford. 

) Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in 
which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the 
great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets 
him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his 
love-story with "The Angel" are full of real sentiment. 
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. 
Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda. 

The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovabH 
type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and 
kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by ths 
§heer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from 
oarren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage 
HT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. 
illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. 

The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. 
The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing 
love. The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting c3 
nature, and its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. 

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York 



B; M. Bower's Novels 

Thrilling Western Romances 

Large 12 mos. Handsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated 

CHIP, OF THE FLYING U 

A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chk) and 
Delia Whitman are charming^ly and humorously told. ^ Chip's 
jealousy of Dr. Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big. blue 
eyed young woman is very eunusing. A clever, realistic story of 
the American Cow-puncher. 
THS HAPPY FAMILY 

A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of 
eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. Foremost amon^t 
them, we find Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative 
powers cause many lively and exciting adventures. 
HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT 

A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Eas- 
terners who exchange a cottage at Newport tor the rough homeli* 
ness of a Montana ranch -house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the 
fascinating Beatrice, and the effusive Sir Redmond, become living, 
breathing personalities. 
T HE RANGE DWELLERS 

Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just 'as they really exisl 
spirited action, a range feud between two families, and a Roraeo 
and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story, 
without a dull page. 
THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS 

" A vivid portrayal of the erperience of an Eastern authorr, 
among the cowboys of the West, in search of "local color" for i 
new novel. "Bud" Thurston learns many a lesson while following 
*'the lure of the dim trails" but the hardest, and probably the mos I 
welcome, is that of love. 
THE LONESOME TRAIL 

"Weary" Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where con- 
ventional city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, 
pungent with the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection c^ 
a pair of large brown eyes sopn compel his return. _ A wholesomcr 
love story, .y 

THE LONG SHADOW 

A vigorous Western story, sparkling witfhj. the free, outdoor, 
life of a mountain ranch. Its scenes shift raj^idly and its actors play 
tlie game of life fearlessly and like men. It is a line lov« story from 
start to finish. "^ 



Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction. 

Grosset & DuNLAP, 526 West 26th St., New Yori^ 



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